


(Un)cut tales from Hyrule

by Dash (Cydney)



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Hyrule Warriors, The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Fantasy, One Shot, PWP
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-09
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-02-20 11:44:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 31,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2427464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cydney/pseuds/Dash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of unrelated stories between Link and the various ladies he encounters, set primarily through Hyrule Warriors with more added later. Expect sex, drama, crack shipping, feels and yes - actual plot hidden in there too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Aspirations (Link x Cia)

Victory, Cia decided, did not taste sweet. There was no relaxed satisfaction or sense of achievement. Instead, as she decended upon Link’s lips again, there was a giddy excitement and heat bubbling up in her stomach. Each time she leaned back she hummed, watching her adored hero gaze at her with red cheeks and glassy eyes, and her hunger grew again.

Victory tasted nothing like “sweet.” It tasted like spice and lust and a fire roaring for _more_.

"That’s it, darling," she cooed as he closed his eyes and moved further down her body. Her fingers played in his hair, tresses of spun gold as far as she was concerned. Oh, but this young man was perfect. If only that Goddess-cursed brat of a Princess could see them now, she thought, revelling in the feeling of him licking between her full breasts. 

Oh yes - if only Zelda knew what she almost had this time. Ever the noble fighter, sword and shield at the ready to defend the realm. What a  _waste_. Link was doing a much better job here, Cia thought. Hovering oh so lusciously above her, calloused hands squeezing her breast while he sucked and worshipped her nipple. ‘ _Stupid little Royal brat,_ ' she mused.

And then there was Lana - her so called better half. Always willing to sacrifice herself for others, again and again, no matter how much it hurt. Yes, dear, lovely Lana - forever willing to be left behind. How would she react if she were here now instead? To be able to look down and see her precious knight undressed and wanting her? 

Link slowly stroked his thumb along the sole of her foot, making her toes curl while she hummed with delight. Lana would probably be frozen, blushing from head to toe. Cia only grinned, using her other foot to brush his hard arousal before parting her thighs and fixing him with a hungry, pointed stare.

There was no invitation. This was her quiet command. It was her  _right_. She chewed her lip and blessed him with a sultry moan as he rubbed across her damp clit. And then she felt him push, lips spreading open as his length sunk inside. And then there was that  _groan_ of his - that guttural yell that he made whenever he was in the heat of combat. Only this was _hers_ \- because she was hot and slick and he wanted  _her_ instead of some privileged Princess.

This was what she had started a war for, she idly mused, relaxing and arching her back. What she wanted for so very,  _very_ long, and to finally have it. To have him close by, inside her, to let her heels rest on his back while he steadily pumped and gasped. 

"More," she moaned, biting her lip and pulling him with her legs. She almost squealed with delight as he gave her "more," hands roaming and thrusting harder. His lips latched onto her neck, sucking a cord under her skin. Cia couldn’t stop the throaty moan when she felt him stiffen and come, splashing inside her. The dizzying sensation pushed her over her own edge, climaxing as she  _knew_ he wanted her that much.

She was the conquering Queen, and Link was her prize. 

**********

Ganondorf turned his attention away from the sorceresses thoughts. If he possessed his body, he was sure he would be gagged with disgust by now. His host writhed away in her bedchamber, deep in slumber with those disturbing fantasies of hers. 

How did she command any respect when she harbored such curdled thoughts? How could she respect  _herself_ when she awoke, messy and frustrated over these nightly delusions? And with  _him_ of all people.

The restless spirit pushed his disgust down, before it threatened to intrude on her dreams and alert her of his presence. Let her have her crude thoughts, he decided. Let them grow and fester - they would only make her more desperate and quick to act in the future. 

Ganondorf was patient. He would wait. Sooner than later, this obsession Cia had would be her undoing and his release. 

How ironic that it was all because of that boy in the green hat, he thought…


	2. Discipline (Link x Impa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It takes more than green clothes to make a soldier into a warrior. Impa is going to make Link be the Hero he is destined to be, but that doesn’t mean conventional training and happy endings. - A possible Link x Impa with sexual situations

“Turn around.” Link obeyed without thinking twice. He knew very little of Impa – the Princesses’ personal guardian was intimidating enough, certainly. And from what he had heard in the castle grounds, she was well deserving of it. As he spun around, the Sheikah studied him with a critical eye. Link couldn’t help the fleeting sensation that he was being sized up, and _not_ impressing.

“It’s remarkable how well the clothes fit you,” she said, admiring her handiwork. She hadn’t wasted time after the battle was over, demanding he remove his trainee’s tunic and replace it with the green garb. “The scarf is not traditionally part of the ensemble,” she continued, as she adjusted the wool around his neck. “But it was decided the Hero would be… _improved_ if he were seen wearing the crest of the Royal family.”

When she was finally satisfied with the tunic, Impa gave him the same penetrating look as before. Somewhere within the folds of his new clothes, he almost felt Proxi huddle down further.

“I don’t doubt that you’re a capable soldier,” she said as she crossed her arms. “But that doesn’t make you a hero – not _yet._ ” As she leaned towards him, Link couldn’t help but notice how her massive blade did nothing to hinder her movement. “So I shall make you the Hero you are meant to be.”

Without another word, she turned on her heel and moved towards the nearest captain. Link barely noticed a few of his fellow recruits crowding around and talking to him, some reaching out to feel the fabric of his new tunic. He didn’t feel very heroic - Hyrule field was torn apart, and the heavy scent of gunpowder was still in the air.

* * *

Impa came to him that night, insisting he accompany her out into the field. He almost stopped and asked why, seeing as she herself had ordered everyone to sleep early for marching to the Eldin Caves the next morning. But her no-nonsense attitude kept him quiet.

“Leave your weapons, and convince your fairy to remain too. You won’t be needing them.”

She led him out across the damaged field, feet crunching on cold grass. They walked in silence, Impa leading with a purpose while Link, naturally quiet, followed with a mixture of apprehension and curiosity. Minutes passed by until she led him inside an old fortress, abandoned before today, and turned to face him.

“That’s enough – now attack me.”

He was baffled to say the least. She stood, completely open and vulnerable, but he didn’t dare move. Was this some part of her grand plan to turn him into what, a hero? Some warped procedure to toughen him up? No thanks, he thought. But before he could open his mouth to protest, the world spun and he landed hard on the stone ground, the wind knocked out of him.

“I wasn’t asking,” Impa said, crossing her arms while wearing a very disappointed look. “Why did you hesitate? Because I’m unarmed? Or because _you_ were?” She was goading him now. It wouldn’t be possible for him to wield the Triforce of Courage if he was petrified without a weapon. “Don’t tell me it’s because I’m a woman…”

Link clenched his teeth between pants, steadily bringing the air back into his lungs. Impa’s pointed look began to turn from disappointment to contempt. He shook his head, not trusting himself to speak yet but wanting to avoid another swift kick. Last time she had shoved her foot into his chest – he wasn’t about to tempt her to do it again.

“… you caught me off guard,” he finally bit out, pushing himself upwards while glaring at her. But she did not look convinced.  
“If you are to be a true Hero, you must always be on your guard,” she chided. “Yours is a life of peril. You must expect as much danger from anywhere, and anyone. Understand?”

Link spared her a withering glare before grabbing her ankle and yanking her off her balance. If the Sheikah was caught off guard, she hid it well. Natural grace and agility saved her from mimicking Link’s earlier fall, but she still wound up sprawled beside him. When she recovered, she wore a look of satisfaction.

“That’s better,” she affirmed, pushing herself up much quicker than he had.  
“I’m a fast learner,” he replied, his guard now up. An instant later her leg struck out again, attempting to aim a kick at his head before he managed to deflect it. Impa took another few strikes from the ground, limbs being swatted away by his arms, before she flipped forward and forcefully pinned him.

“ _Everyone_ is equal to you – young and old, men and women alike.” He didn’t struggle beneath her, merely looking up and taking in the words she was offering. “If you are to become the Hero you are meant to be, you must learn to be _more_ than the people around you. Do you understand?”

Link gave no indication that he was listening. He only continued to look up at her, and Impa almost wondered if she had been too rough with him, or if he was still struggling with the philosophy. Maybe he _wasn’t_ the fast learner he claimed to be. Impa leaned back, ready to test whether he had at least learned to expect the unexpected, when the truth came out.

Her bottom came back against something hard and unexpected. And if the pressure she felt wasn’t enough of a surprise, Link bit his lip as a weak groan escaped him. She levelled him with a questioning stare, watching a light blush tint his face. She opened her mouth to say something, stopped, and carefully rolled off of him.

They were both grateful for the sudden distance.

“Remember what I spoke of,” she said, before leaving him on the ground of the abandoned fortress to calm down. The situation was frustrating. The Triforce was proof that Link was a destined hero of Hyrule. She had a headache to think of how long it would take for her to build him up into one.

* * *

In the days that followed, the Allied forces experienced many different skirmishes, and Impa had to admit that she was becoming impressed with the way Link handled himself. The green tunic and crested scarf was embraced by the men. The destined Hero of Hyrule was as much a force in combat as an icon off the battlefield. Link had already proven that he was a talented fighter, but the more time passed, the more he exemplified the traits that were expected of him.

Casualties were down. Morale was up. The Hero was expected to be on guard against all attacks, while remembering the place all those around him as he fellow fighters. It seemed, she thought, that perhaps her lesson was sinking in.

And then _they came_.

Sheik was trouble, Impa decided. There was something about the newcomer that she didn’t trust. Sheik claimed to be a Sheikah, the same tribe as Impa herself, and displayed all the qualities she valued in her people. An anonymous blade with quicksilver reflexes. But Sheik would also try and engage Link in idle conversation, and Impa didn’t trust her enough for that.

Then there was Lana. The young sorceress was much more open than Sheik, but all that did was make her easier to read. She would steal furtive glances at the Hero, and frequently tried to monopolize his time and attention.

Impa didn’t like this for one reason – the Hero had _no idea_ how to react around women. As expected of a trainee who had spent the last few years in an all-male barrack, he was even quieter than he usually was around them and prone to distraction. And that was trouble for them all.

When Impa was certain the others were too involved with their tasks to notice, she once again had Link disarm and follow her to a quiet corner of the Faron woods.

“You have come a long way,” she remarked, secretly pleased to see the compliment had little effect on him. “But I can still defeat you, easily, and without trying.”

 _This_ had a reaction, which she expected. It was subtle, but Link’s brows flashed a look of suspicion, and his stance changed ever so slightly to that of a defensive one.

“Shall I demonstrate?” And without hesitation, she unfastened her chest guard, grabbed the top of her bindings, and tugged them down. She wasn’t surprised to see Link lose some of his composure, face slackening ever so slightly as he stared at her modest, bare breast.

“And now you’re dead,” she said, not bothering to cover herself up. He was torn, somewhere between the idea that he had failed while still unable to pry his eyes away from the first woman who exposed herself to him.

“Do you understand?” Her voice was taking an edge now, and she was pleased to see his focus return. Still, she did not bother to tug the wraps up over the swell of her chest. “Our enemy has made herself known, Link. She is a powerful woman. She _desires you_. And you couldn’t even walk straight if your life depended on it.”

For the first time, Link looked as though he wanted to say something, anything, but nothing came. He was caught between an argument and a rebuttal, mouth opening before closing and trying to hide his arousal. Impa stalked towards him, a determined look on her proud features.

“This is war, but that doesn’t make every fight one with weapons. You can’t let little things bring your downfall.”  
“I wouldn’t call them little,” he muttered back, clearly embarrassed. She snorted, impressed only that he could manage the comment.  
“You’re too kind,” she said blithely, before poking the impression in his trousers and watching him jump from the touch. “I could say the same, but that’s not why we’re here.”

Link’s frustration was mounting, confusion and arousal clawing at his mind.  
“Mind telling me _why_ we’re here?” he snapped.  
“You can’t let yourself be ruled by baser instincts.” Her voice was steady but carried an edge of warning. She was drilling another of her lessons into him.  
“You expect me to be made of stone?”  
“I expect you to be better than those around you.” And she grabbed his hand before pressing it against her breast.

“See?” she said, applying pressure before relaxing. “It’s just flesh. It’s soft and shaped, and babies feed from them. Don’t let these control _this_.” Without warning her hand dropped, touching him through the front of his trousers. She expected him to hiss or moan. To buck against her and roughly palm her. Instead, Impa had to give him credit – Link did neither. He only bit his lip and kept his hand gently in place on her chest.

“I know what you’re saying,” he said quietly, somehow finding his voice. “But do I have to stop being human to be your Hero?” He watched her. She stared back.  
“No – just a better human.”  
“I thought I was.”

Time stretched on between them with no one making a move. He didn’t try to talk, or push himself against her. She expected him to grope her, or give in to curiosity and play with her tight nipple. He did neither, only gently holding her. And she had to admit – he was better than most.

“You are,” she said finally, before untying the front of his trousers. He watched her in confusion, but didn’t dare to stop her, until she slipped her hand inside and wrapped it around his length. Even if he was good, she needed him to be better.

“You’re touching my breast,” she said again, before pulling his hardness out and into the cool air of Faron woods. “They’re soft flesh and they looks good bare. And you can’t let your cock forget it.” Link did hiss at that, for as soon as she said it, she curled her fingers around his length and slowly pumped up and down his shaft.

“This?” she said, watching him carefully as she moved closer. “This is different. This is special. This is you at your very weakest.” Impa’s hand moved up and down slowly, pulling his skin along the length as she stroked him. “And you must never forget that. Your enemy would see you undone so easily – but you will resist them. You are the Hero, and you _know_ the difference between flesh and _this_.”

He was blushing now, breath coming in shallow pants while his eyes were focusing on her features. Impa’s eyes bore into him, watching to see recognition, to see that he grasped the importance of all this. When she was satisfied that he understood, only then did she find that his hand was slowly and gently exploring her breast.

He really was a better man than most.

“Do you understand?” She asked. He nodded, a clarity in his eyes, and she believed him. Silently, Impa closed the distance to press against his side, her hand moving to better wrap around his hard prick. “Then relax for now.” Nothing else was said, and she slowly and firmly stroked him until she felt him twitch and watched him gasp. When he hit his peak, Impa held his shaft and watched his seed jet out, landing in the leaf-littered floor of the woods.

She waited until he was calm and composed, allowing him to tuck himself away before she adjusted her bindings and fastened her chest plate back into place. She ushered him back to their makeshift camp first, while she mused on the night’s meaning.

* * *

When Sheik revealed herself as Princess Zelda, there was an overall sense of relief from the Allied army. The missing Royal had taken a toll on the men’s morale, and to see her wield her rapier in battle made even the most injured soldier want to take up arms again.

For the group of warriors, there was mixed feelings in general. The imp, Midna, found it hilarious to think Zelda was their leader. She thought that her disguise as Sheik was much more impressive, and made no secret that she found the Princess’ usual attire “too pink and fluffy.”

Lana was miserable, though she hid it. Or at least she tried to. But anyone who cared to notice could see that the sorceress was much happier when Zelda’s fate had been ambiguous – missing, but presumed well.

And Impa was ashamed. She had sworn an oath long ago to care for the girl like her own child, and never allow harm to befall her. Even if she was unaware of Zelda’s disguise, she had been openly suspicious and quick to throw Sheik into danger to test her loyalty.

And then there was Link to consider. Over the weeks that had followed since Zelda’s first disappearance, he had frequently shown every trait that was to be expected from Hyrule’s Hero. He was a paragon of nobility, who treated all around him with an equality and kindness while remaining guarded in the middle of combat. There were whispers amongst the men that he had no weaknesses.

And whenever she heard them, Impa felt simultaneously proud and ashamed. Proud to think that she had taught him to be this man. And ashamed that she intimately knew of his vulnerability, the same that everyone would share with someone else. But most of all, there were expectations of him that she didn’t make him aware of.

One of which was, of course, Zelda. It seemed almost natural, to hear it being whispered about, that the Princess and the Hero of Hyrule would find one another and become involved. And that meant Zelda, who Impa had sworn to always watch over, could virtually lay claim to Link and that would be that.

And if she was honest with herself, she did not want Zelda to experience that same intimacy that she herself had touched upon. As the Allied army marched towards the Temple of the Sacred Sword, Impa lost herself in fighting Cia’s troops. It was easy for the Sheikah to bring her naginata to bare upon dozens of enemies, flowing with the combat around her. Anything to keep her mind away from the mess it was creating, all shame and bitterness in the name of loyalty.

But the time came when distraction made her sloppy and she took a glancing blow in her leg, and she knew she had to do something about it.

When she sought Link out, it was once again in the night, where she had him disarm and follow her. He complied, but near as she could tell, he had no expectations. He was a hero, as she had trained him to be. He trusted her.

Impa wasn’t so sure she trusted herself.

“Do you agree that I have helped shape who you are?” she asked him, arms crossed under her chest and studying him. He nodded, still a man of few words, and she was grateful. “Then do you agree that you would owe me a favour?” He paused for a second, but nodded firmly. If he was surprised or curious, he covered it well. Either way, Impa had her answer, and she stepped closer into his personal space.

“Then I want you to hide this night away,” she said, pressing her hand to his chest. “To keep it a secret from everyone. And… relax with me.” She wanted to shake her head from the absurdity of it all, but she had taught him to beware of easy manipulations. She was trusting the words to carry more weight than they sounded. Regardless, when she lowered her hand to the front of his trousers and rubbed, he didn’t push her away.

Impa had tried to reason with herself about what she was going to do. To tell herself that it was _because_ of loyalty to Zelda that she needed this, needed to test him. After all, if he truly was going to be her consort, he would need to be generous and have stamina. He couldn’t disappoint her, after all. But her reasons sounded weak, even to her. Even if she wanted to believe them. So, she accepted what she wanted as a selfish need. After all – they couldn’t stop being human to be heroic, right?

When she untied Link’s trousers and felt him move for the freedom, she no longer cared. She wouldn’t steal from Zelda. She wouldn’t have his first kiss, even if it would be easy. Nor would she have his virginity – something that seemed all the more unfortunate as she untucked his hard cock. Instead, she kneeled down, gave him a slow pump with her hand, and wrapped her mouth around his length.

She wasn’t stealing, she reminded herself. A Princess of Zelda’s lineage wouldn’t be so eager to kneel down like this. And when Impa lowered her face and drew back, sucking hard, the groan that fell from Link’s lips dashed any worries she had. She wanted this. She wanted him to be this open and vulnerable with _her_ , and when Zelda did claim him, Impa would have this memory to keep.

 She closed her eyes and bobbed up and down, humming as she went. Link was hot and hard in her mouth, and the longer she sucked, the more he began to groan. When his hands moved to her head, she half expected him to force her down and fuck her mouth. But of course he never did. His fingers played with her braid, before moving to stroke her cheek. He was gentle. Of course he was gentle. He was a hero, after all.

Because she had trained him to be.

Impa couldn’t hide her satisfaction when she felt him get close to his climax, feeling his balls tighten and his hands stroking her scalp more eagerly.  
“Impa, I… I’m close…” Of course he would warn her, she mused, but she had no interest in stopping. Instead, she leaned back just enough to look up at him, watching him steadily as she engulfed him. She watched as his eyes shut and he bit his lip, before he jerked and stoked her scalp. Her mouth filled with warm, sticky cum, and Impa waited until his eyes slid open again before she relaxed and swallowed his seed.

She hoped she would never forget the look on his face when she did.

She withdrew him slowly, lips tight as she let him pop from her mouth, sighing and suddenly feeling more than a little awkward.  
“Thank you,” she said quietly, leaning back before Link took her hand.  
“… would you like me to… return the favour?” He was just as awkward as she was. But all she could do was shake her head, suddenly struck by the unfairness of it all. If he was someone else, she could relax and say yes. To let this admirable man perform such an intimate act on her and allow themselves to be awkward and relaxed.

But he was the Hero, just as she had trained him to be.

“You can’t,” she said simply. “You might belong to Zelda one day, and only she should have such gifts.” If Link was surprised or confused at this, Impa couldn’t tell. The notion had struck him dumb, but either way it didn’t matter. It was the truth.

She rubbed her forearms, chasing away a chill breeze that suddenly felt too uncomfortable, before she began to turn away.

“But… what if Zelda doesn’t choose me?” Impa was surprised that it wasn’t laced with disappointment. Maybe there was even a note of hope in his voice. And she couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at the idea.

“Who wouldn’t choose you?” she asked, before leaving him to his thoughts.


	3. Amnesty (Link x Sheik)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Surely Impa was wrong to doubt Sheik, Link thought. She seemed too… genuine, even if she was covered from head to toe in tunic and wraps. Besides, he thought - if he were being honest, she really did have a fantastic ass. - A Hyrule Warriors tale of Link and Sheik, secret lovers clinging to each other while war rages around them.

**Amnesty**

* * *

 

Taped fingers dug into his shoulders. His hand caught her long braid and wound it around his fist, pulling just enough to coax her head to the side where he attacked her neck. Even with her mask up, Sheik gasped against his ear and pulled him closer for more. Her heels dug into Link’s  back, legs tightening and pulling, as though she was caught somewhere between climbing and clinging. Her walls clenched, making him groan against her throat.

It was amazing how she was still able to do all this, he thought with awe. How even when they were coupled like this, with her clothes hanging off her and his hard prick inside, Sheik was still this sinewy creature of stealth and grace. She was quicksilver, even with her toes digging into the muscle of his back and her arms clinging to his shoulders.

No wonder she was making him hard in battle, lately - cat-like strikes stirring the most impure thoughts in his mind. Sheik was a master of  precision, and knowing just what she was capable of doing with her flexibility was dangerous knowledge. Even now, while he ground against her slick pussy and she hummed, she managed to be this vision of grace.

"Don’t stop," she moaned, lifting herself off his lap to come down harder on top of him. "I’m _so close_ …”  
Link had no intention of stopping - he couldn’t remember ever feeling so good before meeting her. He held her pert rear, which never failed to grab his attention, and brushed his nose against her ear.

"Come for me," he whispered roughly, knowing she enjoyed a little bit of raw talking during sex.It worked, with her tensing up and shuddering before she grabbed his head and pulled him close. Sheik always did this - butting her forehead against his and staring at him with that one piercing, crimson eye, before she couldn’t help but collapse against him from her climax.

Only tonight was a little different, with her taped fingers tracing lines down his back and along his face. And with aching legs and a slick lap, neither of them made to move.  
"Stay like this," she said, her lips barely moving behind her mask. "Just a little longer, tonight." Even if he was hyper-sensitive from his own orgasm, he just couldn’t say no to her.

* * *

Sheik was the most mysterious person Link ever knew. Not even becoming lovers had changed what little he knew of her. And really, with what he later learned of her, it only made more sense that she thrived off of being such an enigma.

When Sheik first appeared, harp in hand and legs virtually _covered_ in knives, nobody really knew what to think. Impa had been guarded – a mysterious Sheikah with no background or motive, raised too many questions for the Royal Attendant to ignore. The Captains and men couldn’t care less, really. Even the most hardened were being worn down by Eldin Caves, most drenched with sweat while others had to stop and vomit from inhaling sulphuric air.

Link didn’t really know what to think either way – he was too absorbed in the battle and balancing defences as they marched. But two things kept invading his mind as Sheik began to cut a bloody path through their foes. First, that they had the most piercing, alluring eyes he had ever seen. And secondly… Sheik had a very nice backside.

He spent the next few moments idly wondering if their hourglass figure was indeed that of a woman’s, or if maybe he wasn’t as straight as he always assumed he was.

Later, when the caves were (thankfully) far behind them, Impa had called an early cease to the march beside the Zora river. With dozens immediately sinking to their knees and some even dunking their heads under water, she grabbed Link’s arm and steered him towards the corner of their makeshift camp.

“I want you to stay away from them tonight,” she said, voice carrying an edge of authority. “They’re worn out and morale is low. The last thing we can afford is for them to see their leaders as human.” He frowned, but said nothing. As a trainee, he had often had the idea that “many hands make light work,” but Impa’s words carried that particular weight that said “listen and do as I say.”

“The Hero of Time once wore a tunic of red to better cope in the heat,” she continued, pushing him further towards the seclusion of the terrain. “But while he wore it, no one saw him bleed. Remember that.” Impa was fond of imparting such philosophies on him, really. And with her lesson concluded, she instructed him to bath and rest out of sight for the night.

Link would mull the words over, but not before peeling the drenched tunic and chain from his body and having a chance to wash the sulphur away.   
“You really do look suited to those clothes,” said the very bushes around him, and with some small amount of alarm, he threw himself into an adjacent rock pool to hide his nudity. When he broke the surface again, there was Sheik, languishing in the branches of a tree and laughing softly. Dulcet, feminine giggles, and the revelation that she really was a woman, would have been welcome if not for his state of undress.

“I didn’t think you would scare so easily,” she said, eyebrow cocking with mirth as he glared up through his sodden mop of hair. He said nothing, only treading water to the edge to better cover himself. The Sheikah seemed to relax a little more on her branch, as if there was less to entertain her now.

“Having fun up there?” he bit out, cheeks more than a little flush despite the cold water. She had the same laugh from before. A quiet giggle, bubbling up from someone who just didn’t seem to fit the voice.  
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she said back, before rolling off the branch and landing neatly on two feet. She stood then, arms crossed and staring through a lone eye. He couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling that he was being appraised.

“Impa is right,” she said after awhile. “You’re going to be a great hero to this land - you will be judged harsher than others.” Link was certain he didn’t like that idea. There was enough to worry about with fighting in a war without needing to stress over his every movement.

"No pressure, right?" Maybe Impa was right not to trust this newcomer. But Sheik merely shook her head, and the image manage to relax him nonetheless.   
"You’ll be fine," she said, before fixing him with her gaze again. "I believe in you." 

There was something in the way that she had said it. That she had made four words hold such presence that he was lost for anything to say. She turned on her heel and began moving away, but not before pausing to deliver one final offer.

"Besides, you’ll have a lot of friends and allies. We’ll all support you."

Whoever Sheik was, Link was sure Impa was wrong to doubt her. She seemed too.. genuine, even if she was covered from head to toe in tunic and wraps.

And she really  _did_ have a very nice ass.

* * *

Looking back, it was hard to say just how they had progressed from enigmatic words to falling into bed with one another. It had happened quickly, sure, but there was more to it than that. Bards were always singing of the glory of war, but they never had anything to say about the loss of life or the loneliness of it all. Everyone felt that.

Even so called heroes.

The battles weren’t always won so easily. Impa was growing more frustrated at being unable to find Princess Zelda, and the casualties were still climbing. Even if every campaign had been a victory, there would be a lot of letters going home instead of soldiers.

When the pressure became too much one day, Sheik grabbed Link’s hand and pulled him away from the others. He almost expected her to be like Impa - to warn him to keep up a stony image, lest morale would be even lower than before. Maybe it was just a Sheikah thing.

Instead, when the assassin was sure they were alone, the cool image of indifference fell away and she slipped her arms around his shoulders.  
"Let it go," she said, quiet but firm. And Link clung to her for a long time.

He had thought back on that night often, and he still wasn’t sure who started what. He barely even remembered belts unfastening, or sashes untying. He didn’t even register when his fly opened and he was exposed to the night air.

All that he really recalled was sinking inside her, and for a time all he knew was hot, wet flesh and taped fingers touching his face, and the feeling of being connected to someone. Like he was waking up from some exhausting, bad dream, and her ruby eye was welcome and comforting.

"It’s okay," she whispered, and Link was very aware that he was some poor wretch that was taking an offered gift. Sheik was calm, aware of everything and understanding of it all. And even with most of her face covered, the way she tipped her forehead against his and watched seemed like the most intimate thing he would ever experience.

He didn’t last long after that - he was too eager to feel something and too inexperienced to hold himself back. The most warning Sheik got was the way his breath drew sharper and his lip caught between his teeth, but she didn’t push him away. Rather, she wrapped her arm around his shoulder and whispered soothing, encouraging words, holding him until he spilled inside her.

* * *

Their affair didn’t end after that, even if there wasn’t a day as bad as that one had been. If anything, the secret lovers became a little more brazen with their tryst. Secret, knowing glances were often shared between the two. Link had especially become bolder, as though the Triforce of Courage had been roused awake by some other power.

If they were being honest with themselves, they didn’t _want_ to think about the implications of it all. Some destined Hero and a mysterious assassin, stealing away every other night to let it all go and make love. At least it seemed like that - there was more to it than some desperate need to fuck. Even with a war going on behind them, they were like some naughty youthes, where every new discovery was exciting.

"Why do you always cover so much?" Link asked one night, his fingers trailing along the bindings of her breasts while he stared at her mask. Sheik rolled her eye, stretching under his hand while relaxing on his lap.  
"If I thought you could put these wraps on well enough, I’d let you take them off," she reflected, guiding his thumb to where it could rub across her covered nipple.

"I didn’t _just_ mean these,” he said, teasing her all the same. She knew what he was talking about. Most lovers, couples or not, at least kissed one another. She had never removed the mask from her face. She didn’t dare, even if part of her wanted to.

"These don’t give me protection - they give me _freedom_ ,” she said quietly, before resting her head on his shoulder. He didn’t push after that. There was too many hidden meanings in the way she said it, and if he were honest, he was starting to adore this mysterious Sheikah more and more.

* * *

When Lana joined them in their efforts to stem the tide, the revelation of who and what their enemy was seemed to have lasting consequences. The troops, who had marched for weeks into the unknwon, found vigor. They had a target, a destination, and it looked as though they were that much closer to going home.

To the small group of fighters, there was tension in the air. Impa was a trusting to Lana as she was to Sheik. Lana herself seemed to border on the bubbly and the morose, depending on her company.

And Link and Sheik were spending every stolen moment together, embracing, quietly talking, and undressing enough to stimulate each other. By this stage they relied on each other for this comfort, and they both loved watching as they made the other tighten and climax.

The night before they moved to march on the Valley of Souls was different than the others. No one could deny the foreboding sense that they were moving to some great conclusion, or that there would be a parting by the end of the day. 

That evening, the secret pair took as much time as they wanted, with Sheik sensually stripping down to almost nothing, while Link eagerly traced and kissed from her ankle up to her neck. She didn’t hide her encouragement as he lifted her up, enjoying how confident he had become with her, before he teased her lips with his cock and slid inside her.

They teased, rubbed, rocked against each other. Sheik wiggled her toes, free from her sandals, and dug them into his muscles as she wrapped her legs around him. Link utterly  _worshipped_ her breasts, seeing them free from the bindings for the first time. Her arm’s tightened around his shoulders and she hissed as he sucked on her nipple.

"Don’t stop," she moaned. "I’m so close…"

Which is where our story began.

"Stay like this," she said afterwards, burying her head into his neck. "Just a little longer, tonight." Link found that he could have stayed like that for more than just the night. He didn’t want to face tomorrow, and the implications of it all. 

Princess Zelda was still unaccounted for, but all he had heard since Lana had joined was how he and her were “fated to be.” And he wasn’t sure he liked it. Even if he once gazed at her with admiration, Zelda was a Royal, and he was a swordsman. He was sure he’d be better off with someone who was more like him.

Maybe a lithe, stealthy, ninja-like Sheikah.

And Sheik had her own reasons for worrying about the next day. The time when her secret would be out seemed to be coming close, and faster than she would have liked. Even if her disguise was a means to an end, she enjoyed the freedom it allowed her. 

She loved what it had given her.

"If you found out why I kept myself covered, would you hold it against me?" she asked, almost out of the blue. Link said nothing, before pushing her shoulders back to look at her, but she wasn’t interested in questioning looks or giving more details.

"I… wear these to hide," she said. "They give me freedom, remember? Freedom to move, to blend in. To be with you…" Her taped fingers spread across his chest, playing with sprinkles of hair as she bowed her head.   
"I’ve enjoyed this," she continued quietly. "If the time comes, sooner than later, that these go away, will you remember this?"

She fixed him once more with that large, ruby eye, only now the corners were crinkled as if she were quietly pleading.

"Just remember - even without these wraps, I am who I am."

Link didn’t want to think of the future, even if it meant seeing Sheik expose the last of her secrets. It didn’t help that she was talking as if she wouldn’t be there anymore. But damned if he didn’t adore her by now, and he couldn’t say no to her stare.

* * *

The evening they were alone again, Princess Zelda spread her hands apart in a welcoming gesture. And Link had _no_ idea how to respond. She was the same woman, of course. Her body, her height, even her voice, they were all Sheik. Except this was a  _Royal Princess_ , and he was caught somewhere between bowing and averting his eyes.

Courage was his forte. Not Wisdom. 

It was fortunate that Zelda  _did_ know what to do, and she removed her grand tiara before pulling him close and butting her forehead against his. Two big, blue eyes gazed at him, an unfamiliar tone in a very familiar shape.

"Do you think you can get used to blue?" she asked, mirth tinting her voice. And all at once, any apprehension Link had was swept away.  
"Yeah," he said, voice husky as he tilted her chin and took her pale lips for the first time.

Everyone else would see the Royal Princess of Hyrule, Zelda. But she’d always be his Sheik.

* * *

 


	4. Seduction (Link x Cia)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I had a request on Tumblr for a typical "smutty tale of Cia seducing Link." And i thought  
> ... yeah, okay. Only instead, let's have Link seduce Cia. Let's flip it."

**Seduction**

* * *

 

 

Cia, the Sorceress, was going to seduce Link, the Hero.

It was as simple as that. 

Not to say she had merely planned it - she slowly, agonizingly, meticulously fantasized about it. Before she rose from her temple, ready to scorch the ground beneath her feet, she knew she would not stop until she had him.

He would come, rising to the challenge she laid before him as she swept across the land. And when he breached her army and faced her in person, she would whisk him away, and proceed to have him. She would deliver the slowest, sweetest torture, bending him to her will.

She would allow him to know, and not see. Whisper the bounties that would await him. She would let him look, but not touch. Oh, how she was looking forward to that - to have those cerulean gems drinking in the sight of her voluptuous body, and all the sweet pleasure it promised.

Allow him to touch, but not taste. Oh _yes_. Cia would have her beautiful man. He would drop to his knee and serve her, happily, devotingly. When she allowed him to take her, he would give her every sinful gift she wanted, and he would still suckle her breast and thank her for the privilege.

Link would be her champion, her greatest victory.

Link was already her greatest weakness, and because of that, her downfall.

He came, as she expected, wielding a Holy sword and scattering her army. He faced her in all his glory, handsome and powerful. He sheathed his blade, back straight and eyes forward. And then he reached for her - textured thumb tracing the curve of her cheek, before he leaned down and kissed the thrumming pulse in her neck.

"I’m sorry I made you wait so long," he whispered in her ear. And Cia fell, arms around his shoulders while her hands clutched at him, desperate to hold onto him.

For all her plans, her dreams, her fantasies of breaking him with her affection and body, she was unprepared for him seducing her first…

"Be mine," he murmurs into her ear, and she has to stop herself from shuddering. It’s somewhere between a request and an order, but it’s enough to make her toes curl in her boots.

"Be mine, darling," he says again, and she almost sobs. She knows him - knows  _everything_ about him. She knows he doesn’t talk unless he has to, and only then when it suits him. Across dozens of lives and reincarnations, she can count the number of people he has really spoken to on one hand.

_Fi, Saria, Navi, Midna…_

His fingertips are at the back of her neck, now. They’re steadily working in circles, where her cropped hair ends, and he’s staring at her with such a burning intensity. It’s enough to leave her mouth dry and her thighs wet.

"Cia…" Link’s voice is like sandpaper - so rough and throaty from being unused. Her name is whispered affectionately like that of a lover, and all thoughts of seducing and breaking him flee from her mind. She wants him, yes, but she wants to  _belong_ to him. To have him cover her in bites and kisses, to mark her as his for the world to see.

As passionately as she wanted to rule over him, a Queen with her erotic slave, her desire to be taken by him has burned centuries longer. She wants him to pick her up and carry her away. To caress her gently like a fragile maiden and whisper loving oaths. To bury himself inside her and fuck her like a wild beast. 

"Take me," she whispers. Two words, but her voice still cracks just a little. Before she felt dark. She felt powerful. She wanted Link to kiss her stomach and swear to never leave her. Now she  _needs_ to hear it, because she wasn’t a Sorceress.

She was a lonely woman being held by the man she adored.

Link’s hands come around from the back of her neck, fingers stroking down her throat and slowly, carefully, sliding down her sides. They brush across her ribs, and she’s simultaneously enthralled and disappointed that he doesn’t palm her breasts. His eyes are still focusing on her and it makes her want to crush him against her. To feel his broad chest against her. To tightly wrap her legs around his waist. To feel his arousal, warm and hard, and to watch his face as she would bring him to climax for her.

Oh, Goddesses above, she was in trouble.

"Take me," she says again, her voice huskier than before. There’s no crack this time - she doesn’t afford herself any weakness. She’s determined to prove that she’s worthy of this fine warrior. And he smiles, just a quirk of his lip, and she feels a rush of warmth as if he’s praised her for being good.

He moves, fast, and she’s scooped up off of her feet. Bridal style, with an arm beneath her knees and her heart skipping beats in her chest. She directs him to her chamber automatically, but her mind is swimming in fantasies. 

She  _wants_ him. She wants him to take her every possible way he  _can_ take her. To claim her body as thoroughly as he’s already claimed her spirit. To gently caress her face while he hovered above her, filling her core with his hard length until they’re both climaxing together. She wants him to throw her legs over his shoulders, nipping them and appreciating how strong and elegant they are, while his hips buck against hers.

Cia wants Link to adore her and make love to her. She wants him to roughly pull her tight against him and fuck her like they were horny youths. She wants him to ravish her voluptuous body and whisper how gorgeous she is. To have him treat her like glass and gently kiss her skin, before using his tongue against her aching pussy. To growl dirty, filthy words in her ear before he covers her in his hot seed. 

Cia  _wants_ him,  _needs_ him. She’s done so for years.

When he lays her back against a sofa - the softest thing in the room - she knows _he’s_ seducing _her_ now. He’s just too good at enticing her, at teasing her and leaving her wanting more. Every touch he leaves on her exposed skin is light. He’s exploring her, slowly and playfully. When he reaches her ankles he deftly unties her small boots, sliding them off and leaving her free to wiggle her toes.

It’s the most gentle, sensual, intimate way she’s ever been treated. She’s being slowly undressed by the man she’s admired for years, like she was the most delicate creature in Hyrule. Part of her wants him to dip his head and kiss her, finally. To feel those lips caress hers. Another part of her wants him to just  _take her_. To rip her clothes off before thrusting his dick inside her.

But no matter what, she knows he’s in charge, and whatever he does do to her will be a long awaited gift. She felt less and less like the Queen she had made herself to be over the weeks. She felt more like she used to, so long ago. Before Lana left. Before dark whispers filled her mind with taunts.

She was just a woman, hands reaching up to stroke the face of this man she held feelings for, while he affectionately rubbed her bare leg and watched her through confident eyes. 

Cia wasn’t sure if this was a grand victory, or her ultimate defeat. It didn’t matter. When Link descended towards her face nothing else mattered. Just the ghost of his breath before his lips melded against hers, hot and intoxicating. Her bare toes curled again and she balled her fist in his tunic.

He was kissing her, lips deeply caressing hers while his tongue licked across them. She could feel his arousal - a firm muscle that was brushing against her thigh. His hand cupped her breast,  _finally_ , deliciously palming her sensitive slope.

Victory, defeat, war. None of these words had any meaning for her anymore. Her world had shrunk to the sofa she reclined on, and the hot, hard body of Link hovering over her. Of his calloused hands untying her blouse, and how she arched her chest to remove it quicker, eager for more of his touch. 

She wasn’t disappointed. She pulled her top open, letting it fall from her ribs as she exposed herself. Her breasts were sensitive, more so from their size, and the same rich, cinnamon shade as the rest of her skin. She knew she was desirable. That she was beautiful. But when she felt Link’s fingers spread across one full, tender slope, she felt _invincible_. He was tender, but bold. His eyes roaming over her chest before coming back to rest on her face, watching her reactions as he plucked a hard nipple.

"You’re gorgeous," he whispered, that sandpaper voice laced with lust and admiration. And Cia had never felt so powerful as she did when he dipped his head and kissed her breast. A firm lick sweeping up between the valley of her slopes made her moan his name. He made her shake, made her wet. He _wanted her_ , and it was still the most intense feeling she ever had.

"Take me," she said again, her hand holding him hard against her chest while she pulled at his hair. "Take me hard, slow, fast, _just do it_. Make me  _yours_ , Link.” It was impossible not to feel bold with him lavishing her breast, and she had to risk it. She couldn’t wait any longer.

He raised his head from her chest, kissing her again and sucking on her lower lip. It was dizzying, and she barely noticed the rustling of clothes or belts. She thought she removed her own underwear, bending her legs just enough to slide them down and off her feet. She had to - not even Link was so talented to remove them while he was still kissing her.

"Cia," he whispers huskily, and she looks down. Immediately she bites her lip and groans. They’re naked - his pale skin contrasting against hers, a shade of warm honey. And his prick almost makes her mouth water - thick and firm, with a drop of dew on the tip. 

Somewhere in her mind, she knows now she could have never really seduced him. She couldn’t permit him to pleasure himself to the sight of her, because she would have fallen to her knees to taste him. To lavish his cock with her attention.

"Cia," he calls again, seeing that she’s away with her fantasies. She comes back to him, blushing prettily as it all becomes clear where she is again. He gives her a little smirk and her clit throbs in response. "You  _are_ mine, honey,” he says to her. She hungrily yanks him down to kiss him, his hot tip spreading her lips before he fills her.

Cia screams and tightens herself. Not from pain or discomfort, but to finally have him fill her. After decades of waiting and wanting, she’s feeling him caress her breast and hip while he’s buried inside her. She can’t talk, can’t move. She can only cling to him, arms tight around his shoulders while her ankles lock behind him.

When he moves, its slow and deep, and the world burns white. She can feel him - every throbbing inch of him, as he thrusts in and out. It’s not like she often fantasized about. He’s not whispering confessions of love to her while their hips rock gently. Nor is he biting her neck while he bucks against her slippery pussy. It’s just  _different_. It’s tense and relaxing at the same time, while his hands explore her curves and he kisses along her face, catching her lips at odd times.

It was infinitely  _better_ than her fantasies because it was like nothing she had planned for.

They’re coupled together for what feels like ages. She raises her hips to meet his while he stops thrusting to roll against her. Her clit is brushed beautifully and she doesn’t hide her moans of appreciation. He whispers how good she feels and its empowering, even if she’s underneath him, writhing on her sofa while his cock glides in and out of her. Link’s not afraid to hide himself, and she knows every hiss and every moan is for  _her_. 

He makes the sexiest sounds and they belong to  _her_ , and she knows it.

She comes first, clamping against him tighter as she shakes and moans. He holds her, face nuzzling her neck, and her orgasm is amazing. Immediately he’s whispering to her, telling her how sexy she looked, how amazing she felt. He tells her he can feel every tingle and how good it feels to have his cock awash with her come. She almost climaxes again from the way he says it, too.

If her orgasm is amazing, his is explosive. She caresses his face, feeling bolder and whispering things to him now. Telling him how full she feels, how much more she wants to do afterwards. How she wants to do  _everything_ with him.

"But right now, I want you to fill me up," she breathes. "Give me every hot drop, Link, because I’m yours."

He thrusts and stiffens as he comes. His eyes close and his head tilts back, groaning out like a roar. At the same time she feels him twitch inside, before he spills his sticky seed inside her.

She’s dizzy again. She’s sure she can get addicted to this moment.

And then his hands are stroking her face, lips brushing across hers while his eyes stare at her.

"I’m sorry you’ve been alone so long," he whispers, and Cia crumbles. She clings to him, biting her lip to stop from sobbing while he rubs her bare back and tries to sooth her.

"It’s okay," he says. "You can let it out, now. I’m here."

* * *

The night is spent in a blur. There’s talking. So much talking. Idly she realises that she’s joined the list of people who can  _still_ be counted on one hand.  _Fi. Saria. Navi. Midna. …Cia._

Later they join again, and this time he does treat her like she’s made of fine porcelain. He teases her with his fingers and tongue while she moans his name, bringing her to climax twice before settling between her legs and filling her again.

There’s more talking afterwards. He tells her he admires her. Her strength and cleverness as much as her beauty. This time she throws her leg across him and rides his cock with desperation, as if she’s wiping out years of frustration while reminding herself that now he wants her as much as she wants him.

Cia is the first to awake in the morning. His arm is possessively thrown across her shoulder, against her full breasts. At least one nipple is sporting a love bite, and she plans to tell him to even them out when he wakes up.

She still has her espresso skin tone, and she’s sure her hair is still snow white. Her transformation was her own creation after all - not some side effect of corruption. She’s still not sure if she wants to change her locks back to blue, or her skin to the same pale Hylian which Link himself has.

But she has the option now, which is more than she’s had for a long time.


	5. Rejuvenation (Link x Lana)

**Rejuvenation**

* * *

 

Link eased himself back against the nearest tree, turning his head to spit while he slid down to the ground. He grimaced, bearded face twisting in discomfort as he knee crackled in protest. He finally came to rest on the ground and stretched out with a weary sigh. Winter in the Lost Woods were a trying time on recruits half his age, much less knights in their twilight years. Not that he was old, by any means – thirty two years alive, but he was considered a relic for the Hylian guard. Few lived past twenty five, and none of them were of sound health.

Link himself was proof of that. Thirty two, and bearing more scars than the Royal infirmary had recorded on any other Knight before him. He was no longer capable of using a bow. His fingers ached to pull the string, and his vision had blurred ever so slightly. It was years since he hit the bullseye.

Impa had once told him, many moons ago, to watch out for glory, for in its shadow stalked jealousy. The years had been especially hard on him. There were expectations heaped atop of him, but being blessed with a blade often meant he was alive to deliver the bad news of those who weren’t. It was a heavy, thankless burden.

Zelda married, but as the court demanded, she married to Royalty. Some far away Prince who helped unite their lands, or some such. Link remembered the wedding day due to three gifts. From Impa, a short, curved Sheikah blade, to be strapped to his back for fast defence. It was appropriate – at the time his shield was growing heavy for his arm.

The second, a bottle of fine wine. A gift from the recruits, with the hope he would pass it on to the blessed couple. And from Zelda, a fine sword, shaped and polished to mimic the Master Sword. He had to bite his tongue from calling it a cheap mockery.

He adored Impa’s blade, and valued the wine himself. The sword stayed within his scabbard, with the excuse that it couldn’t grow dirty if it wasn’t used.

He was bitter. He was grizzled, with scratches and lines, and a choppy, uneven beard growing from his jaw. At least there was wine to keep the cold from his knee, and Impa’s blade that he could still draw relatively fast. Zelda – _the Queen’s_ blade was surely tarnished by now from being unpolished for so long.

But again, there was wine. And ale when wine ran out. And the Lost Woods allowed him peace to swear and spit with the ghosts. They didn’t judge, and if they did, he could blame it on the alcohol and the Guard, along with most of his worries.

“Here’s to those that wish us well,” he chortled to the cold air, raising a flask. “And all the rest can go to Hell.” He tore off the cork and drank, until the wind didn’t bother him, the ground didn’t hurt him and the bitterness of his life began to fade.

He didn’t notice the sound of frozen grass crunching nearby. Maybe his hearing was beginning to wane, too.

* * *

Over the course of the years, Link had awoken often to unfamiliar surroundings, but the darkened room was somewhere between a dungeon and a living quarters. All stone and quiet but still somehow comfortable. It took too much effort to even remember the woods from the night before, and his head was pounding heavily all the same.

His equipment was nearby – his fingers able to reach out and stroke the curved handle of the short sword that usually sat on his lower back. There was that at least-

“You’re awake.”

Link’s fingers tightened on the handle, reflex pushing him to sit back and draw the blade out, pushing through the rolling pain he felt while he peered out through creased eyes. There was a sigh, some breathy noise, before a figure stepped into his vision.

“You’ve gotten scruffier,” she said. For a long, awkward moment, Link was sure it was Cia. The woman who caused so much trouble so long ago, with her piercing eyes and petite features. But she was _not_ Cia. Not really. She was too soft in the face, too welcoming. Her hair was longer than the sorceress’ cropped style, and a bright sky blue in shade. And this woman wasn’t quiet as... voluptuous as he remembered Cia to be, either. No – it had to be...

“Lana,” he breathed, before immediately choking on air. His blade came down and he muffled himself with his fist, while she took a step towards him and grimaced. The young witch had grown up over the years. Grown taller and fuller, with an air of maturity. But there was still that innocent charm she had so long ago when she was a spry youth.

“I can’t believe that’s you, Link,” she said, and he quelled his coughs long enough to glare at her. Despite all his rough edges, he just didn’t _like_ to be pitied, and he had the feeling she was feeling sorry for him now.

“You know how it is,” he said roughly, his voice low to accompany his hangover. “The life of a Knight is not all it’s made to be.” But she shook her head sadly, and Link couldn’t help but notice just how much she had grown. Her hair spilled down to her shoulders now, while her ornate jewellery was absent from her arms.

“I don’t know how it is,” she said quietly. “I wasn’t keeping an eye on you, you know.”

Link relaxed back, finally realising it was a cot that he was languishing on. That did surprise him. He always wondered in the back of his mind if she watched him, silently growing more and more disappointed in his decline over the years.

“Probably for the best,” he agreed, scrubbing his face with his hand and pulling his scrappy facial hair down. But what surprised him more so was the way she shook her head, smiling a soft smile, as though he were some incorrigible hellion.

“Come on,” she said. “I’ll draw you a bath. You could use it,” she added cheekily, before leaving him to prepare.

* * *

Link couldn’t remember the last time he had a bath. There was hygiene to consider, of course – bathing left you sitting in dirty water. But he almost cursed when he eased himself into the copper basin, feeling warm water come up to his chest while steam rose from the surface. Aching scars and a crackling knee seemed to ebb away under the water.

It was the most relaxed he had felt sober for a long time.

“Facial hair suits you,” a voice sang behind him, and he jerked forward at the sudden noise. He whirled, eyes wide with fright as Lana giggled behind him. “Though maybe you’ve got a bit too much for my liking,” she said with her nose wrinkling, and Link was caught between wanting to know why she was there and wanting privacy.

Lana didn’t give him the option of sorting out his confusion, spinning her finger in a no-nonsense fashion.

“Turn around,” she commanded. “You’re very lucky – I’m going to wash your back for you, and you can tell me how you’ve been.”

He didn’t feel lucky. Not immediately. Sullenly, he turned his back on her, careful to cover himself under water while he stared ahead. There wasn’t much to say, he told her. He had no interest in complaining, and there was the danger that if he _did_ start, he wouldn’t be able to stop.

“Things have been rough on you,” she mused quietly, while her fingers traced along a bright scar that crossed his shoulder. The one that began giving him trouble with his shield arm, from what he could feel.  
“I’m a Knight,” he said simply, pushing aside the sensation of her gentle fingers on his back. “It’s to be expected.”

She said nothing for a while, focusing on rubbing soap over his broad back while he closed his eyes and relaxed against her. The steam had evaporated his headache, and truth be told, it felt good to feel the dust washed off his skin, or her fingers in his scalp. She commented on how tangled his hair had become, and he actually said sorry for the inconvenience.

“What happened to you, Link?” He opened his eyes and she was there, kneeling down at the side of the basin with a worried look on her face. He frowned, but he was too tired to feel any resentment towards her. Pitied or not, Lana was his friend, and a beautiful young woman who showed him kindness. Both were few and far between.

“When they write the stories, we all get happy endings,” he said with a hint of mirth. “They never bother with what happens next.” Deep down, a part of him wanted to smack himself. He was beginning to grow morose, and he knew once people started to feel sorry for themselves, it wasn’t easy to come back from it. But Lana only shook her head, blue locks framing her face while she seemed to wither just a little.

“Not all of us get our happy endings,” she said, before reaching out a wet hand and placing it on his cheek, just above the start of his scruffy beard. “They just leave us out of the tale.” Link looked at her, _really_ looked at her. And all at once, he knew her. She was Lana, who once loved him, and who still did. This beautiful, wonderful young woman held him in her heart. At he had spent too many years feeling bitter and cranky at the world to spare her a thought.

She dodged an arrow, he thought.

“There are worse things,” he said, reaching up to take her hand away from his face, before growing lost in just how soft and smooth her palm was. Thirty two, and his fingers were as rough as granite. It would be so easy to lose himself in just how soft and gentle she was, especially when her thumb came down to brush the back of his hand.

“I’d disagree,” she said quietly, squeezing.

It would be _so_ easy, he thought. So easy to cradle this sweet, gorgeous creature in his arms and kiss her. To taste gentle lips and feel a woman’s curves for the first time in so many years. To lose himself in her welcoming touch.

He pulled her hand away, looking down and crushing the thoughts before his arousal began to show. This was Lana, and she deserved better. He said nothing, but heard her sigh and slowly pull her hand away.

“You should stay until the wind dies down,” she said, drying her arm on a towel before rising and brushing her dress down. “And Link? It’s not up to you to decide who I do and don’t deserve.” Lana turned and left the room, blue hair seeming to close her off as he looked on after her. He remembered, too late, that she was still a powerful sorceress who knew more than she let on.

* * *

Hours later he awoke in the cot, early for the first time in months. He ran his fingers through his uneven whiskers, mind buzzing with what to do. Officially, he was on leave from the Hylian guard. Told to take time to himself, but advised to stay clear of the local tavern. The Lost Woods seemed like a good idea at the time, really. Nothing but solitude and spirits to swear and drink with.

And now he was gazing up at Lana’s roof, mulling over the day before and unsure where she was. He hadn’t explored the home – he felt too much like an intruder in her life after so long. And still, she treated him with more kindness than most had in so long.

‘ _Probably_ _because she still loves me,_ ’ he thought. That kept sleep at bay easily. She _loved_ him. He didn’t know how to treat that. He was only good at stabbing and slicing, and his skills with those were beginning to grow dull. It wouldn’t be much longer before he would be too slow to block that next close strike, and someone else would be carrying _him_ home.

He didn’t much care for that idea. The great Hero, scruffy and alone, falling to a glancing blow and buried under some fancy stone. With Queen Zelda saying some expected words, maybe.

And then his mind came back to Lana, the sweetheart sorceress who would mourn him all on her own. He didn’t care much for that idea, either. The witch’s words kept playing over and over in his mind, about what choices he did and didn’t have. Link rubbed his cheek again, a ragged nail getting caught in his whiskers and making him curse aloud.

“You’ve become quite talkative,” came a voice from the door, and he was just grateful he didn’t jump from Lana’s intrusion.  
“For all the wrong reasons,” he said, pushing himself up and smiling ruefully. If little else it brought a similar smile to her face, her features lighting up just a little, and Link found he enjoyed the sight.

“I’m about to have apple pie,” she said, tilting her head and biting her lip. “Would you like some?”  
He had to stop and wonder when he last had anything with apples in it that wasn’t just cider with ale.  
“Sure,” he said quietly, and her smile came back brighter. He couldn’t deny that he liked it.

“Lana?” he called to her as she began to leave, and she gave him a questioning look. “Can I borrow a blade? Something sharp. And some water.” She gave him a puzzled look, enough for him to really wonder if she couldn’t just read his mind whenever she wanted, and he gave her a crooked smile.  
“I promise I’ll be careful with it.”

* * *

Weeks went by, and Impa folded her arms across her chest. She wasn’t impressed – not in the least, though she couldn’t say she was very surprised either.

“What is the meaning of this?” she asked coolly, nodding towards the blade on her desk. The sword that Queen Zelda had gifted Link so many years ago lay across the wood, polished to a fine shine. Perhaps for the first time since it was forged. She looked up from the blade to the nervous Captain, who wilted just a little under her scrutiny.

“Beg pardon, Ma’am,” he said. “But he left it in the Guard’s room. Said he was done.”  
“Done?” Impa was sure there was a twitch in her forehead. Of all the irresponsible things Link had done over the years, this was both the worst... and perhaps the most relieving.  
“Yes, Ma’am. Said he was going to ‘bow out’ before he took an arrow to the throat.”

She sighed, folding her hands and tapping her thumbs together. Zelda wouldn’t be happy about this, but Impa expected it would be preferable to hearing he had died in battle. And she had prepared _that_ speech long ago.

“Anything else?” she asked, before picking the sword up and depositing it on the shelf behind her.  
“Just one thing,” the Captain replied. “... he shaved.” _That_ got her attention. He hadn’t been clean shaven since Zelda married.  
“He what?”  
“Not all over, just a bit here and there,” he continued, tapping his cheeks and chin. “And a bit around here – it’s all short and even. Gotta say, it looks good-“  
“Leave immediately.”

* * *

Lana’s eyes closed, sighing contently as Link’s lips gently slid over hers. They were rougher, with his trimmed facial hair tickling her chin, but she was happy to tilt her head to the side and deepen it. When her tongue shyly slipped out to brush his, he made a noise that was just encouraging and she pressed her naked body closer to him.

Idly, she wondered how Cia would have reacted if she were still the dominant one. If she would be more active and assertive. But Link surely had some mind reading skills of his own, and his rough fingers pulled through her hair before cradling the back of her head.

“You’re doing fine,” he whispered, and her heart skipped a beat from the encouragement. Her heels dug into the mattress of the cot behind him, adjusting herself on his lap and delighting in the way he groaned. She’d remember that, rocking her hips and easing his hard length out of her folds before sinking back down onto him. This time his head fell onto her shoulder, and she beamed to herself. He would always be beautiful to her. Scars along his body and a sharper face only made him more handsome.

Even if she existed for many, many years, she was as delicate and young to him as he was broad and tough to her. She had always desired Link as he was – a handsome, brave youth. But if she was honest with herself, she thought he had aged rather well. Distinguished and wiser, with a rough-around-the-edges quality he always lacked.

Link the Hero was a noble boy, hesitant to do anything inappropriate. Link the Knight was a cursing, older man, who wasn’t afraid to reach down and squeeze her backside while still letting her set the pace of their love making. Lana found that she preferred him more this way, delighting in the way he would lean down to kiss her full breasts before brushing his teeth along her nipple.

“How am I doing?” she asked playfully, fingers curling into the muscles of his shoulders and giving him a warm, sultry smile. She felt him bristle and twitch inside her, and she couldn’t help but feel a little naughty for it, too.   
“You know how you’re doing,” he ground out, holding her hips before bucking up and making her squeak. Even _that_ turned into an erotic moan.  
“Tell me anyway,” she whispered, pressing her breasts to his chest and tightening her legs around his waist. Link chuckled, a deep rumbling in his chest that shot through her nipples.

“You just like hearing me talk dirty,” he whispered, and Lana nodded. Who could blame her, really?  
“Do it for me?” she asked playfully, moaning when he kissed the tip of her ear and thrust deeper inside her.  
“You’re a good little sorceress,” he whispered throatily. “And you’re going to sit here until you’ve been properly rewarded.”  
“That’s not dirty,” Lana whined, tightening her legs all the same. Link just laughed again, a hand palming her ass while the other tilted her chin up to kiss her.

“You couldn’t handle the real dirty talk,” he whispered, grinding himself between her slippery thighs. He could already feel her starting to tense up, knowing she’ll reach her peak soon.  
“Then I’ll just stay here until I can,” she said stubbornly, fingers clawing down his chest while she leaned against him. “And stop holding back – I _know_ you’re as close as I am.”

“Can you really read my mind?” he asked, kissing her neck.  
“I know your dick keeps twitching inside me,” she moaned, tilting her head and pressing against his mouth.  
“Such language,” he mumbled, breaking from her throat. “And you want me to talk dirty to you?” Lana’s hips rose and came down hard, leaving them both close to their climaxes.  
“I like it when you do it,” she hummed, licking her dry lips.  
“Then stop talking and cum for me, love,” he growled into her ear.

Lana’s orgasm came crashing down, clenching and clawing at Link enough to pull him over the edge with her.

When she got her breath back, she shyly confessed that she had never been so excited than when he called her love at the end. He promised to do it more often.

 


	6. The Royal Tour (Link x Midna)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link is under orders to give Princess Midna the Royal tour. She’d rather tour the Royal bedroom. A fic exchange/request for Xaphrin on Tumblr. PWP/NSFW

**The Royal Tour**

 

* * *

 

"I do beg your pardon, Your Highness." Hylian guards always seemed to lack definition to Midna. Ignoring how short the race was in general, they seemed to have the same build and clothes and even faces. That plain, unimpressive glance. But she smiled broadly all the same, folding her hands in front of her and nodding down towards the little walking potato.

Sorry - guard.

"I’m afraid the Queen is still busy with pressing matters, and begs your forgiveness. But she wishes to state that Hyrule Castle is open to all of your needs."

Internally, she corrected herself back to ‘potato’ as he snapped his boots together and saluted.

"Thank you for the message," she oozed, closing her eyes and tilting her head down. "Please let Queen Zelda know I appreciate this gift." The pork chop guard straightened exaggeratedly, nodded, and marched out of the room. No sooner had he left than the Twilight Princess allowed her face to relax, where an unimpressed frown formed.

"Some people never change," she huffed, crossing her slender arms and pouting. One bare foot tapped against the regal carpeting - it was nothing like her own palace, nestled in the twilight. Hyrule castle was too much about form and decor than function, she thought. 

"Well, let’s make the most of that offer," she declared, spinning on her toes and smirking down. Largely left alone, Link had been sitting in a plush chair, looking far too bored for a young man who had the opportunity to admire her backside.

"What do you mean?" he mumbled, cheek on his fist as he looked  _up_ at her, and her smirk widened.  
“Are you, or are you not, a citizen of this fine kingdom?”  
He opened his mouth, some half-hearted retort ready, before she spoke over him.  
“It’s _your job_ to entertain me.” Her voice dropped an octave, becoming a sultry demand for attention. “And I want you give me the Royal tour.  _Now_.”

* * *

There was never a compromise when it came to Midna, Link thought. When she wanted something, she wanted it yesterday, and probably twice as much tomorrow. As fond as he was of the Twilight Princess, she could be a pain in the butt like that. 

"Ugh,  _more_ art? I thought that brute was responsible for decorating the castle.”

It was true - after invading, Ganondorf had managed to add his own “charm” to the place. Destroyed furniture, twisted effigies, stained glass. He had a decorators theme about him. But the room they were in hadn’t even been touched by the resurrected Gerudo.

Nor had the last room, or the one before that. No, they were immaculate. Traditional Hyrule colors swept through them, while artwork of the previous Royal’s and their favourite painters adorned the walls. Even fine crystal chandeliers had survived the invasion.

And all the while, Midna’s commentary was incorporating more of her sharp tongue.

"I thought you wanted the Royal Tour," he said, once she finished sniffing derisively at a portrait of the Seventh King.  
“I  _wanted_ to be entertained, dear,” she said with a coy voice, before resting her elbow neatly on his shoulder. “Since when did you become a boring little farmboy again?”

He swatted her arm away, rising to her challenge.  
“All right then,  _Your Majesty_ ,” he said with an exaggerated bow. “Just what did you have in mind?”  
Midna smirked. ‘ _Hook, line and sinking lure_ ,’ she thought.  
“Since you asked, let’s have the  _real_  Royal tour, hm?” And much like a gentleman leading a fair maiden, she slipped her arm around his broad, shorter shoulders and whisked him down the hall.

* * *

"So, this is where the Queen of Hyrule sleeps?" Midna stepped carefully into Zelda’s bedchamber, her pale leg crossing slowly over her black one as she inspected the room. "Well, it’s no  _wonder_ she avoids this dreary place.” 

Link was struck dumb. He had only seen Zelda’s personal room once, and he was as impressed with it then as he was now. He had never seen such opulence before. Rich, scarlet drapes ran from the ceiling to the floor, flanking the largest bed he had ever seen. And yet Midna was largely unimpressed. The Twilight Princess spun about, her dark robes swishing about the space, a stark contrast against the red interior.

"I was expecting more," she frowned, pushing her hooded veil back to rub her neck.  
“I guess red never was your color, was it?” he muttered, allowing himself to appreciate the Royal Crest that had been etched into the wall above the bed. Midna would always prefer a touch of darkness, he thought. 

Maybe that’s why it was such a surprise to see her seat herself on the edge of Zelda’s large, plush bed, stretching out like a cat. Her Twili skin and robes made her look like an amazon-sized ink blot on the red covers.  
“Who knew Zelda had such a boring room?” she mused, crossing her dark leg over the lighter one. Link shook his head, trying not to notice just how much of her long thighs she was showing from behind her split dress.

"I guess this ends the Royal tour?" he asked, moving to step past her before that black leg rose up and barred his way.  
“Not so fast, champ,” she mused, watching him steadily through amber eyes. “I  _demanded_ entertainment, remember?”  
Link quirked his brow, studying the toned calf against his chest before following the length up to her cheeky position on the Queen’s bed.  
“You were expecting a puppet show?” he asked.

Midna grinned that familiar grin - lips curving up at the side and flashing bright teeth, before leaning back against the mattress and sighing.  
“I can think of a few things, really,” she laughed. “Doesn’t it seem like a shame to have a big, boring room going to waste?” Link said nothing. He was sure he heard her wrong.

"You want to, what, Christen Zelda’s bed?” he asked, and she arched her back and laughed, somewhere between a musical note and a wicked cackle.  
“Oh honey,” she sighed as she caught her breath. “While I’m visiting,  _you_ are  _mine_. And if I wanted to, I could have you kiss my perky ass.” And then, just because she could, the Twilight Princess let her heel brush against his front while relaxing back.

"I might make you anyway - I’ll need the comfort after sitting on this cotton monstrosity." Link just shook his head. Sometimes Midna could be too sassy and spoilt for her own good, even if he  _did_  privately find it attractive.  
“You could get up you know,” he mused, trying not to let her wandering heel distract him too much. But Midna was too busy wiggling against the covers.  
“And you could still smooch my backside,” she fired back.

And then the playful Princess brought out the big guns. Leaning back and watching him with her big, amber eyes, she stretched her long leg up in front of him before brushing her toes against his collar.  
” _When_ did you get so boring, Link?” she asked, pressing her heel against his chest. “Here we are, together again, and you won’t even give my cute ass a kiss.” And then she pouted, giving him that forlorn little look that was too out of place on her mischievous face.

He acted without thinking. His hand came up, almost to swat her wandering heel away, before he grabbed her ankle and maneuvered her leg to his hip. Her face instantly changed to a look of excitement.  
“Why kiss your ass when I can kiss something better?” he asked, stepping between her dancer’s legs. Midna’s teeth sunk into her lip, watching him with amusement.

"And just where did you have in mind?" she asked coyly.  
“You know where.”  
“Uh uh - you’re gonna have to  _say it_ , farmboy.”  
She grinned up at him, allowing her firm thighs to gently part, her satin split-dress pooling between them.  
“Princess - can I  _please_ kiss your Royal cunt?” he asked her, and she hummed with satisfaction.

"Since you said please," she whispered, before smartly pulling a bow undone on her hip. She flicked the satin away as if it was bothersome, and Link drank in the sight of her moist folds, pale against her dark flesh.  
“You’ll have to do a good job, honey,” she said coyly, biting her lip and beckoning him towards her.

He didn’t need the hint. Calloused hands settled on her legs, holding her thighs apart as he kissed her inner legs. First the pale one, then the black. Back and forth he went, moving closer towards her core. All the while Midna was left humming with satisfaction. When he was finally above her lips she lost her patience. Link’s tongue barely touched her before she swatted his hat aside and pulled on his hair, bringing him down against her.

"Oh, hell…" She wasn’t prepared for him to actually respond so fast. She expected him to be clumsy or nervous, but Link was neither. His tongue dipped inside her with ease, flicking against her walls and lapping at her skin. How in the name of the Golden Goddesses could her little Hylian henchman be so good at licking her pussy?

It wasn’t fair that he looked so good at doing it, too, she thought. Even without a room full of ugly motifs, nothing could beat the view between her thighs. Messy, dirty blonde hair and lust-lidded eyes were staring up at her, before she felt him sucking on her clit and her vision swam.

"Okay," Midna hissed, balling her fists into his hair as his tongue lavished her. "Stop teasing me already and just take me." Goddess curse him for bringing her to a heat so quickly. But her noble, heroic partner was having fun now. _  
_

"Uh uh," he smirked up at her, watching her while running his tongue between her slippery folds. "You’re going to have to _say it_ , Your Highness.” Midna grinned wickedly. It was about time he threw caution to the wind, and she wasn’t anywhere near as hesitant as he was.

"Take off your pants," she commanded. "And show me just how bad you want me - I know you do. And  _then_ I’ll say it. Maybe.” Midna was too daring to be taken in. Not when she knew she already had the upper hand. But she was pleased to see he wasn’t about to challenge her, loosening his belt instead.

"Wise choice," she hummed, watching with fascination as he pushed his trousers down. This was what she had been wanting to see. Hylians and Twili were built so differently. Her tribe was compact. Lithe and slender. And here was Link in all his glory. The thick, firm muscle made her pussy throb from the very sight of it.  _All for her_.

"You know, before I came here? I  _was_ going to let you take me from behind,” she said with a husky voice. Her hands played with the front of her robes, unfastening just enough to expose her breasts. “I’m sure you’d have liked that. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to let my tits touch this ugly bedspread.”

The Twilight Princess stretched her long legs up and apart, her pointed toes reaching past him as she played with her hard nipples.  
"Now take your cock and fuck me already," she moaned, deciding he deserved to hear her say it. Link didn’t need to be told twice. Any hesitation about "christening" Queen Zelda’s bed had vanished, and he rubbed himself across her lips before thrusting inside her.

Midna groaned, folding her legs behind him and rolling her hips. This,  _this_ was what she wanted to try. Link was so very different than what she would have had from her own tribe. Not as long but so much thicker, and wonderfully hot within. It was almost dizzying to have so much between her thighs. Dizzying and addictive, like a dangerous taboo she could indulge in again and again.

"Link." She bit her hip, eagerly palming her breast and pulling, rolling her slick hips against his. "That’s it, baby."

This was what she had been thinking of for so long now. To have her dear, precious Hylian hold her down and fill her up like a man does to a woman. To watch every hiss and gasp and feel every twitch of his prick inside her.

"We just christened the Queen’s bed," she hummed, reaching down to his hips and grabbing hold of his backside. "So if we don’t want her to find out, you better not spill a drop." The look on his face was priceless, knowing she had just told him to come within her when he hit his peak.  
"I can think of a way to keep you quiet  _and_ leave no evidence,” he hissed, thrusting deeper with his hips.

Midna just grinned, stretching back on the bed and playing with a puffy nipple.  
"Well if the food is as bad the as decor, I may need to swallow something extra anyway, won’t I?" she asked. And then she tightened around him, leg’s locking around his hips while her fingers dug into his rear.

"Now, fill your Princess up, honey." She bit her lip and waited, rolling her hips. Link had lost his ability to sass with her, and, grabbing her slender hips, gave her what she wanted. He bucked against her, hard and deep, until her throaty groans filled the chamber. 

When he finally tensed up and climaxed, it was with a shudder that left them both swearing, as Midna stroked his flushed face and kept him locked against her until they were sure he had finished pumping her full of come.

* * *

"There you two are." Queen Zelda had searched most of the galleries before finally finding her guests. Midna was admiring a painting of her ancestor, while Link…

Zelda frowned. Link looked a little flushed. Perhaps he was allowing himself to grow complacent since his heroic duties were fulfilled. Or, more likely, Midna had been her usual self, and Link had been forced to endure her snippy comments. ‘ _Poor boy_ ,’ she thought.

"Your Highness!" Midna turned and bowed, smiling demurely. "Quite alright - I understand how these things happen. Shall we adjourn for now?"  
Zelda returned the polite smile and bowed her head, motioning for the tall Twili to accompany her to the dining room.

"I hope your choice in attendants was able to keep you entertained?" she asked, somewhat amused that after all that had happened between them, Midna had insisted Link be at her beck and call.  
"Indeed he has," she said, before looking back down over her shoulder and giving him a coy, private smile. "He gave me the Royal tour, you know…"

 


	7. Abrasive (Link x Impa)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> People wanted to see more of an older, rugged and annoyed Link, and I just plain like Impa. She’s strong, she’s determined and she can kick anyone’s ass without losing her cool, and that’s beautiful.  
> She’s also Link’s superior in rank, so enjoy some frustrated, mildly intoxicated sex between a grizzled Knight and his Superior Officer.

**Abrasive**

* * *

 

Impa buried the urge to rub her temples. Even if the trumpets and well wishers were giving her a pounding headache, she didn’t trust herself to uncross her arms from her chest. If she did that, she may just reel back and punch the next person who bowed and said “Congratulations!” to her.

What. A. Crock. Congratulate what? That Zelda, who would always be her precious little maiden, was now married to some little prick from across the seas? Oh yes – let’s celebrate that one.

Zelda had proven herself stronger than her fierce attendant. She had conducted herself with grace, civility and above all, an air of royalty.  
 _“A marriage of convenience,”_ she had confessed, while remaining indifferent to the entire affair. _“To strengthen the kingdoms and diffuse any future threat of their Navy if they decide we’re worth the effort.”_ Impa had argued, and then she railed, but Zelda’s mind was made up. She acted, as she had for years now, with the interest of Hyrule in mind.

Thank Hylia that Zelda was already ruling Queen. Impa had to make do with that small blessing, knowing that Prince… whatever his name, wouldn’t be sitting in the throne anytime soon. Just looking at him made her Sheikah blood boil a little, and she dug her hands tighter into the muscles of her own arms.

He was a scrawny looking thing, with an audacious crown perched atop his head, grinning toothily at everyone and asking them all to start remembering him (fondly) as their Lord. He didn’t impress her. Not as a ruler, a fighter, or even a person. That was her personal, private opinion.

“Scrappy little cunt.” And then there was Link’s opinion, which was discreetly growled into her ear while he nodded at the newly married couple. Already Impa could detect the faint scent of wine coming from him.  
“Sir Link,” she regarded stiffly, her arms tightening. She did _not_ need this. Not on top of having to watch her surrogate daughter marry such an inferior man. Not Link, who over the years had become as grizzled and bitter as every other Knight before him. Who she had ordered, emphatically, to shave his scruffy facial hair.

He had not.

“Lose your razor, did you?” He actually chuckled at that, shoulders rising up and down beneath his formal tunic while he scratched his bristly cheek.  
“I trimmed,” he argued.  
“Not what I asked for.”  
“Haven’t you heard? Compromises are in fashion these days.”And the former hero gazed past her towards the new couple, eyes narrowing while he brought a goblet to his lips and swallowed.

She could forgive him the frustration, if nothing else. Impa shook her head, ruefully.  
“I pray our new Prince never meets you,” she whispered harshly, and he had the audacity to laugh at that. Not loud, for he never had learned proper speech therapy, but a rough rumble that made his jaw tighten.

“Too late,” he said with mirth. “He won’t be using much of his right hand on his honeymoon.”

Immediately, Impa could picture the entire affair. Zelda introducing her best Knight, Sir Link, the most scarred and rugged man in the Kingdom. And the Prince would have immediately been intimidated, but he’d have to shake the hand of the land’s champion because etiquette demanded it. And Link probably would have broken at _least_ a finger, just to see if he’d yell from pain.

“You’re impossible,” she said, even if she was privately enjoying the idea of him intimidating the ruler of their newest neighbour. As the Royal Attendant, Impa had a standard to maintain. As Link’s _only_ Superior Officer, she expected he show the same amount of respect as she did. But he didn’t, and even if she had to publicly chastise him for it, there had been many times when she was grateful and envious for his freedom to speak his mind.

“The Queen gave me the week off, Ma’am,” he said, voice rough but not unkind. “So at most you can ask me _nicely_ not to scare the little prick.”  
“Firstly,” she said, her tone flat but her lips curling into a cold smile. “You have _already_ scared the Prince.” He had the hide to nod. “And secondly, I don’t _ask nicely_ – I let my weapon do the talking.”

Sir Link grinned at that, pointing a worn finger towards her while raising his goblet.  
“And _that_ is why I respect you, _Ma’am_ ,” he said playfully, before downing the cup and smacking his lips. “Care for one?”  
“I may need it,” she relented, knowing she wouldn’t be rid of him any time soon.  But she was both surprised and impressed that instead of hailing an attendant, he pulled a flask from his hip and tipped it into the cup before raising it in toast.

He always was prepared, really.

“What in Din’s name is this?” she frowned, sniffing the offered liquid as he drank from the flask.  
“I forget, but it’s good,” he said after swallowing.  
“Give me one good reason why I should drink this,” she demanded, and he held two rough fingers up.  
“Because you need it, and because I crushed Prince Cunt’s hand.”

Impa swallowed the drink in one, feeling it burn down her throat and giving his alcohol tolerance some begrudging respect.  
“How afraid of you is he?”  
“Very.”  
“Then I order you to stay here and keep him away from me for the night.”  
Link’s brow quirked, his whiskered mouth frowning.  
“You think he’ll try and cop a feel?”  
“I think I may kill him.”

Sir Link chuckled, shaking his head and tipping the flask up again.  
“I don’t say this often,” he said. “But you’re the only person I respect.”  
“Shut up, Link.”

* * *

Impa kicked her door open, teeth dragging down his worn and bristly lip, before shoving him through and slamming it closed behind her. Even mildly intoxicated, Link managed to avoid the stone floor and fell into her chair instead. Before his vision stopped swimming he grabbed her arm and yanked her forward, roughly kissing her again.

Her breath was hot and heavy with the scent of ale, her powerful legs straddling his as their tongues duelled one another. Everything about her was fierce – thin lips moving over his in a dominating way while she ground her hips down against him, feeling his arousal flat against his navel. She was a proud Sheikah warrior and his Superior Officer, and she wasn’t about to let this uppity Knight win so easily.

And then there was Link – a once proud hero and now the most rugged and revered Sir in the Kingdom. And he didn’t much feel like letting her lord her superiority over him. After wrapping his fist in her braid he tugged her head back before attacking her neck. There was always one muscle that twitched whenever she yelled at him, and he was determined to suck the hell out of it, tasting her salty skin and feeling her nails scratch down his back. That was much better – her throaty moan was nicer than her cold tone, he decided, teeth sinking into her skin while her hips rolled against his dick.

“If you even _think_ of stopping, I’ll have you thrown in the dungeon,” she moaned out, her powerful arms crossing over her chest before she tore her formal blouse open, ripping at her bindings until her modest breasts were free.  
“Oh, shut the fuck up, _Ma’am_ ,” he sassed back, before his worn hands cupped her exposed tits and he licked up between them, tongue roughly teasing her skin. Impa’s head rolled back, exposing her wet and bruised neck while she arched her chest against his mouth.

“You are the most annoying,” she breathed. “irritable, bitter man I’ve ever known.” Her fingers spread through his hair, messy and dirty blonde, before she harshly pulled him down against her nipple. “Now _bite._ ”

He did. His teeth chomped down on the hardened bud and she mewled. It was odd hearing such a satisfied noise coming from her stern lips, even with alcohol loosening her up. It was more odd to hear her hum for more in a satisfied, relieved voice.  
“More, or I’ll return the favour,” she pleaded, and Link’s hands found her shoulders and pushed her back. She sat there, his Superior Officer, breasts wet and pink and giving him an annoyed and confused look, before he pulled the formal tunic up and off his head.

Impa didn’t wait before spreading her fingers against his chest, fingers tracing a multitude of pale scars that criss-crossed his skin.

“So show me,” he dared her. Even if he wasn’t gifted with feeling some pleasure from having his chest stimulated, he wasn’t about to let her relax and be lavished just yet. But what was more surprising was she actually _did it_ , wasting no time in clamping her mouth on one of his nipples and sucking.

 _Oh, wow_ , he thought, until her teeth pinched him and he writhed. He could actually feel her lips spread into a triumphant smirk.  
“As usual,” she began, her hand palming and stimulating her forgotten breast while she gave him a challenging look. “I have to show you how it’s done properly.” Link was too busy hissing to glare back at her.

“I swear,” he ground out between his teeth. “if you were nicer I’d use my tongue to finish you off, but I like keeping my ears.” Impa actually laughed at that, leaning back on his lap and regarding him coolly, face flushed and chest bare.  
“If I thought _you_ were good with your tongue, I’d just make you,” she shot back, before she ran a firm, flat hand against the hardened bulge in his pants. “You’ll just have to use your weapon, instead.”

Impa kneeled back off of his lap, swaying just a little before she smartly shimmied out of her pants. “Get up,” she ordered. “I’m not having you stain my chair.” He was too distracted at first, watching her long, firm legs appear, followed with the lips of sex, already wet with arousal and topped with snowy curls. He shook his head, licking his lips and rising from her chair.

“You’re the one with wet thighs,” he fired back, pushing his trousers down and stepping out of them. When he turned around, she was already languishing on her bed, relaxed and watching him.  
“And you’re on top,” she said, matter-of-factly. “So do it nice and deep if you don’t want a reprimand.”

Impa’s legs were hanging over the edge, one of them rising up to butt against his chest as he stood in front of her bed. Her toes immediately dug into his scarred skin while he looked down at her, watching her eyes dance with mirth and challenges and her lips curl into a smirk. Funny how his annoying, strict Superior could manage to be fun and sexy, too. Link shook his head, scratching his whiskered cheek while stroking her leg.

“If you wanted me that much, you could have just _tried_ to order me,” he challenged, lifting her ankle to nip at her heel while she rolled her eyes.  
“Shut up and fuck me,” she snapped, reaching between her legs and parting her puffy, slick lips. “It won’t bite,” she added with a tease.

Link would have been content to tease her awhile, holding his stiff cock and brushing it across her hardened clit. Instead, he dropped her heel on his shoulder and swiftly entered her, gliding inside slippery, hot flesh until his balls met her ass. The Sheikah’s hips rose up while her face warped into a look of pleasure.

“About time you shut up,” he growled, pressing a rough thumb against her wet clit and stroking. She was hot and velvety soft, and it was almost impossible to think this strict woman felt so good to be buried inside of. Without warning, her other leg swung up and against his chest, strong and flexible, until he felt both of her feet hooking behind his head. She bit her lip and grinned up at him, somewhere between victory and satisfaction.

“If you’re not the best fuck I’ve ever had, I’ll make your life a living hell,” she promised him, her hands palming her breast and plucking at her nipples. Link had never been so fond of Impa in his life.  
“Your pussy will miss me when I’m gone,” he dared her, rolling his hips and sliding inches out of her before driving back inside.  
“Let your cock to do the talking.”

Frustrated and tipsy, they managed to surprise each other that night. Impa, the strict Royal Attendant, had a library worth of dirty words that she liked to indulge in. When his hands pinned her legs and he sucked the skin of her ankle, she didn’t just curse over and over, she was _creative_ , promising him everything from a pay rise to terrible torture if he stopped.

And Link, the jaded, rough Knight who was both her greatest fighter and greatest headache, actually _wasn’t_ all boast. Whether it was stamina, eagerness or a lack of modesty, he did _everything_ , even little kinks and curiosities she hadn’t indulged in for years. When his finger gently probed her ass, or his teeth dragged across one of her toes, she wished he wasn’t such a pain in the ass. She could’ve gotten used to this treatment.

And she would never say how much she would appreciate it when his hips crashed against hers and he began to twitch, and he actually warned her he was close and ask if she needed him to stop. She never pegged him as the sort to offer the choice. But it didn’t matter – Impa was too far indulged in lust to make him withdraw his thick length, and privately, she was safe from pregnancy.

“Just fill me up,” she hissed, wrapping her legs tightly around his hips. She had used every technique she knew not to reveal that she had already climaxed twice since they started. But Link, always the open book, didn’t know or care about such subtlety, burying himself inside her and moaning out as he came.

She would never, _ever_ admit that to feel his thick come inside was actually pleasurable to her. Nor would she remind him that when he collapsed against her, exhausted and light headed, she possessively claimed his lips again until they both passed out.

* * *

The next morning was somewhere between awkward and painful. Not from their activities – they were both hardened warriors, flexible and exercised. No – it was alcohol and mortification, their heads splitting from hangovers and the growing realisation that they had gone that far. They had had dirty, rough sex with the individual who made their lives that much harder already.

What was worse was that they had to admit – it was the best they ever had.

“You’re drunk more than me,” she hissed, hand clutching her head. “Tell me you have something for the headache.” _‘And something to wipe my memory,_ ’ she thought. Link didn’t move from where he lay, on his chest with his head buried into her pillow. She tried to not focus on the crisscrossed scars that ran his broad back, and how, if she were honest, it was still quite handsome.

“Back pocket,” he croaked, pointing towards where his belt had fallen the night before. Buck naked and on wobbly legs, Impa padded along the stones to find a pair of potions, swallowing one down in an instant. She sat back on her mattress, one leg tucked up underneath her as she let him have the other phial. She was starting notice just how many bites and marks covered her body, from her breasts to her toes, even.

“We missed wishing them off,” she mused, wondering where in the countryside Queen Zelda was now that she began her formal honeymoon. Link made a noise, some indistinguishable thing, as he swallowed the potion down and rubbed his trimmed beard.  
“I crushed his hand,” he said, as if finally realising what he had down. Understanding, but not regretful. He’d never change, she realised with mirth.

“The Palace will be quiet the next few days,” she said, mostly to herself. She didn’t feel like facing the outside world just yet. Even Link’s grizzled presence was more acceptable. At least he didn’t have the crass to bring it all up again – something she was grateful for. For all his rough edges and bitter outlooks, he wasn’t crude at least.

“We have the week off,” he reminded her. “Queen’s orders.”  
“You’re a Knight, and I’m the Royal Attendant. We don’t _get_ days off,” she said. But Link only rolled over, stretching out and she tried not to stare too much at his nude form.  
“Impa,” he said, voice scratchy. It usually was in the mornings. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s there’s nothing to be gained in being noble. Just take some time off and be _you_.”

That’s the problem – she didn’t really _know_ how to be anyone but the Royal Attendant. She relaxed against her pillow, bare bottom against the downy cushion while she bit her lip and thought to herself.  
“Did you want me to go?” he asked, quietly. She should have said yes. Should have been quick to remind him that she was his Superior and he shouldn’t get comfortable. But the way he spoke, she remembered just how much he himself had lost over the years.

Last night she lost her daughter, but he would have said goodbye to his first love.

“If you can keep quiet, you can stay,” she said instead, drifting her fingers down to trace a long scar over his chest. “I mean it. Shut up.” The skin rumbled under her touch as he chuckled.  
“I knew you just wanted me to focus on other things.”  
“Goddess, I miss the days when you wouldn’t say two words.”

He turned away from her, relaxing against the pillow and humming.  
“If you’re lucky, you’ll find out just how talented I am with my mouth,” he sassed. Impa rolled her eyes. She was still his Superior, and it wouldn’t do for this abrasive Knight to get comfortable.

She’d just order him to do it later on, she mused.


	8. Libraries Worth of Words (Link x Zelda)

**Libraries Worth of Words**

 

* * *

 

Link stretched beneath her, muscles sighing against her down-filled mattress. What little moonlight that crept through the window bathed her in such an ethereal light that it never failed to take his breath away.

Zelda was beautiful. Her every movement was with practiced grace and authority, and he was sure they always would be. Even now, with her nude body glistening with a sheen of sweat, her very being called for praise. Her crown had been deposited on a table across the room. Her royal arms were laid to rest beside her bed, where his shield and blade had joined them. There was nothing to distinguish her as the Royal Princess of Hyrule.

And still, he couldn’t help but see her as his better. Even now, within her locked bedchamber, he felt like he was admiring a woman many times over. She perched against his thighs, her full breasts flushed pink with arousal, and Link was all the more entranced with the steady rise and fall they made. She was excited – they both were, but she still covered her fast, deep breaths.

Not to say anything of her hands. Those wonderful, delicate hands – so adept at playing the harp, now wrapped tightly around his lubricated shaft and stroking up and down. This wasn’t the first time they had done this – Zelda enjoyed indulging her curiosities, and watching her Hero writhe under her ministrations. And it was still so easy for Link to see her – a nude, vulnerable woman lying with a man – still as a Royal Princess.

“Who am I?” Zelda watched him in the darkness, admiring every firm muscle and expression she drew from him. In the still of her room, she could hear her own pulse in her ears – a quick staccato of excitement as her blood rushed. The only other sounds were the slick pulls she made with oiled hands, and the sounds of Link’s hums as she worked. And they were _hers_. Every time his head fell back, or he hissed between clenched teeth, they were tributes to her. And she savoured each one.

“Princess Zelda,” he sighed, and her hands tightened around his prick, making a throaty groan bubble up for her. She had to bite her lip to stop from grinning.  
“And who are you?” A long, lithe leg shifted atop his, and she stared at him as she crawled down his body. She missed his eyes in the dark, warm and confident, but she _knew_ he was watching as she leaned towards him.  
“I’m your Hero,” he declared, and there’s no mistaking the tone of pride on his voice. He isn’t the protector of the realm, or the Chosen Hero of Hyrule. He’s _hers_ – her knight, her sword, her champion.

She lowers herself, kissing the swollen head of his cock, tasting arousal and oil and feeling him jump beneath her. This powerful man is at her sweet mercy, and her mind is swimming. She feels so powerful to have him there, just as Zelda feels so cherished when they join.  
“Who am I?” she whispers it, watching his hardness twitch as her breath flows across him. Princess Zelda has led armies into battle, but nothing makes her both so nervous and excited as being this close again.

“You’re Zelda,” he croaks, and she feels that familiar warmth spreading. Through her neck and chest, all the way down to her toes. He wants her – he always has, and she finds it exhilarating. She almost tastes him, like she’s done in the past, but her heart is hammering behind her breast, and she’s too impatient for a slow build up tonight. She crawls along the bed, quicker this time. She’s less regal, a little less graceful in her eagerness to sit on his toned stomach. She’ll always be a Princess – even when she lays with Link. But for now she wants to be a woman.

“Who are _you_?” she asks him, biting her lip and resting her hands against his chest. His skin is inflamed, relaxing and stretching beneath her slowly. It’s enough to make her folds throb with anticipation. He’s going to make her feel good again, she knows.  
“I love you,” he breathes, and every fibre of him is _hers_.

Before Zelda can take him, he moves first. Her awareness is reduced to a hand on her back – wide and hot against her skin, and then everything is just _him_ as he pushes within her. And it’s incredible, all over again. She feels herself stretch around his girth, and the oil they’ve used makes an obscene sound as they move – an erotic, slick noise that’s _most_ unbecoming of a Princess. Zelda throws caution to the wind, her nails raking across his chest as she curses and whispers his name.

They have had moments when she was a Princess, being dutifully pleased by her Knight. They’ve even swapped, and the brave Hero has released his frustration and stress between her legs. But tonight, she just wants to be a man and a woman.

“Take me, love,” she hums, and through her breast she can feel his heart jump from her use of the word. But she doesn’t stop – she urges for more. She whispers how she wants him to hold her – close and with affection. How badly she wants to feel him fuck her pussy, deep and slow, and to watch his face as she makes him cum. She tells him to kiss her neck, but bite her nipples – so she can wear his marks in secret.

Princess Zelda has always been articulate. She’s bold with her statements, and knows libraries worth of words. Zelda the maiden uses that to her advantage, wrapping her legs around Link’s waist as she leans up from her bed and embraces her, thrusting deeper inside her core.

“Tell me again,” she moans. Her mind is growing lazy with his attention – her focus is on the feeling of his lips on her throat, his hand on her backside. His hard cock inside her cunt.  
“I love you.” He breathes the words, and she’s rough as she pulls him down against her. Her tongue licks his teeth, and she’s too far gone to care if her lips become bruised. This beautiful, brave man lives and breathes her, and she doesn’t have enough libraries to say it all back.

They’ve coupled many times in secret, and they’ve had to find ways around their positions. She is Royalty, and he is her Hero. And Zelda has watched, transfixed, as he’s marked her skin with his seed many times. Pearly trails from her breasts to her clit, or along her back. It’s the best she can offer him, and he still thinks she looks like a graceful Princess with his cum on her belly.

Tonight there’s no withdrawl. Her fingers are desperate in his messy hair, her ankles locked as she whispers to _fill her_. She loves him – loves everything about him. He’s as much her Hero as he is her best friend, her cherished partner.

“Fill me, Link,” she tells him, her teeth nipping his ear. She wants to feel him within her after they’ve finished. “I want all of you inside me, darling.”  
In the back of her pleasure-filled mind, she feels his prick pulse within her walls. He’s just like her, she thinks – it isn’t dirty talking that pulls him over the edge, but feeling her fingers affectionately stroke his stubbled cheek.

He moans her name with reverence as he comes, and Zelda tenses up, her arms and legs locking, fingers and toes curling. He’s hot and sticky and wet inside her, so _deep_ inside her, and the Princess rolls and grinds against him to finish herself off. She comes with force, almost crying out from the intensity. His honest face is still tensing up as she rides him, and it’s beautiful for her to watch. And Link still thinks she looks graceful, even with her legs shaking and babbling a steady chorus of curses.

“Fuck, oh fuck, oh Goddess, fuck-“

It takes the couple slow, steady minutes to come back to themselves. Their awareness is made up of the sweaty body against them, coupled of the scent of almond oil. Zelda’s body seems to blush pinker in the moonlight, and while she’s panting and her hair is messy, Link doesn’t see her as the Princess of Hyrule.

“You’re gorgeous,” he says, voice raw and dry, and she rests her head against his chest.  
“I am what I am because of you,” she hums, her finger tracing a scar across his shoulder. He doesn’t ask what she means and she doesn’t elaborate. She’s Royalty, and he’s confessed his feelings to her twice in the same night. And he knows she can’t say the words back – not without hurting them both just yet. Not until she’s proven she can rule her lands without aid from another Royal.

“You give me strength,” and it’s as if she’s read his mind. Maybe she can, to say it while his mind wanders over their possible future. And then she’s kissing him – moist, hot lips leaning against his, and all his thoughts are dashed. His world is made up on this petite, strong, graceful maiden, and all she is capable of. He knows she feels the same.


	9. Leagues Apart (Link x Zelda/Sheik)

**Leagues Apart**

_Link wasn't sure what kind of magic Zelda used to slip into her disguise or why. All he knew was that despite being the same woman, she and Sheik were as opposite as can be. NSFW/PWP_

* * *

 

"More,  _please_ ,” he heard her whisper, voice husky and thick with arousal. Link’s fingers skimmed along her ribs, before a calloused hand lifted her breast and he sucked. Sheik reacted at once, arching off the bed with a moan and pushing against him. Warm, soft, salty skin smothered him, her fingers digging into his hair as his tongue swirled her tight nipple.

It was amazing how different she was in this guise, he thought. Even if they were the same person, Zelda and Sheik were so very different, and they both managed to surprise him like this. 

Zelda, the Royal Princess of Hyrule, enjoyed being dominant in bed. She had more than enough of people bowing down to her, with sweeping gestures and sycophantic admiration. Those nights when she invited Link to her room were evenings spent grinding away frustration. The very same breast he was kissing now would be a pale shade of milky skin, lightly fragranced with perfume, all while she ordered him to use his teeth against her.

The Royal Princess of Hyrule was a vocal woman, and every drag of his teeth along her skin earned a lovely slew of swear words from her painted lips.

"Oh Din, oh Hylia, harder… fucking  _harder_.”

And then there was Sheik - mysterious and dangerous, she was living quicksilver on a battlefield. And the lithe warrior loved nothing more than being treated like the Princess she truly was. To have her lover hover above her, teasing her bronzed, unscented skin as if she were fragile.

"Adore me," she would breathe. Small, white teeth would worry at her pale lips, her tanned skin flushed with heat. Every sinewy muscle and soft curve that he kissed would leave the disguised woman moaning joyfully.

Link vaguely remembered hearing once that in the bedroom, people often indulged in what they didn’t have. People in power enjoyed relinquishing it, while those who were treated gingerly wanted to be wilder, rougher. Maybe that explained it all, he thought. After all, she was a woman who could do  _anything_ she wanted. And if she wanted to role play as someone else, all she had to do was slip behind a privacy screen and become whoever she wanted.

Zelda would sway her hips, one long leg slipping in front of the other before slipping her arms around his neck and sucking on his bottom lip.  
"Much better," she’d sigh after a long day, grinning when his hands would reach down to where her stockings hugged her thighs.

Sheik would glide towards him, smooth as silk, her emotions guarded. And then Link would feel her fingers against his cheek before she gently brushed her lips against his, her warm, red eyes sliding shut as she did. She didn’t wear lingerie, or any underwear - her lithe, tanned body was bare to him. The “Sheikah” had no reason to hide from her lover - not when he knew her every inch intimately.

They were the same woman, when all was said and done. But the truth was that Zelda and Sheik was leagues apart from one another, and she had no problem with indulging him with her fun. She was certain he’d never complain.

The powerful Sheik loved being lavished on - to lie down and have Link pull her toes and stretch her legs out while gently massaging along her toned body. And the delicate Zelda would use those same legs to pin his hands above his head, while she would stare and toy with his erection in a very un-lady like way.

Not to mention the way she would coo and whisper huskily to “give the Princess what she wants” as she pumped him.

Sheik would brace her feet against his shoulders, playing and pulling at his hair, watching with those intense ruby eyes as his tongue slid across her core. A handsome nose would brush across golden curls until her heart threatened to burst behind her ribs.

Zelda would make Link wear the Royal Crown, lowering her cunt down onto him and rolling her hips, all while playfully calling him “Your Majesty,” and smirking at his reactions as she complimented his “Royal cock.”

Sheik would sit him down and slowly, torturously kiss and lick the length of his erection, bobbing her head up and down and sucking. Skilled fingers played with the skin of his shaft until he couldn’t hold himself back and he filled her mouth with his seed. And then she would lean back, dripping onto her own chest before noisily swallowing.

Zelda actually dared to slather his length in oil, before leaning across her solid wood desk and stretching her knee up onto the flat top.  
"Ease it in here," she requested, before he watched her slippery finger slide into her backside. She flashed him a naughty grin, before he spent the evening fucking the Princess of Hyrule in her ass.

They were the same person, he’d tell himself when his breathing finally came back under control. They had the same body, the same golden hair, the same lips. And yet they were so different he almost felt like he was two-timing her with herself.

"Why do we do this?" he asked her one evening, when Sheik was actually too tired and relaxed to "excuse" herself before becoming Zelda again. Instead she had stretched and shimmered against Link’s side, her eyes ebbing away from red to blue while her tanned skin faded to pale.

"You have to be more specific." Zelda hummed in a sleepy voice.  
"Your disguise," he mumbled, playing with her hair and noticing that it had somehow become silkier, falling loose over her shoulders as if it wasn’t in a long braid not two minutes ago. "You don’t need to hide yourself anymore."

She was quiet for a moment, before pushing against the bed and leaning back to look at him. Her features wore a look of confusion.  
"Do you feel like we’ve been here before?" she asked, her voice lined with hesitancy. "Like maybe in a past life or something?"

He wasn’t sure, truth be told. There had been the tales of the old Heroes from before, and how they would ride out and save Hyrule from darkness at the behest of their beloved Princess Zelda. But that  _they themselves_ had been here and done this all before?

"I’m not sure I can explain it," Zelda said, leaning back down to rest her cheek against his chest. "I just get the feeling like we needed to… catch up. As if we’ve been here before but we never had this chance."

Link didn’t know what to say to that. He never had much to say about anything, but it almost seemed as if Princess Zelda wanted their sex lives to be busy enough to make up for “previous lifetimes,” when she said it like that.

"Why - what did  _you_ think all this time?”  
"Honestly? I just thought you liked to have as much fun as possible," he confessed, and she punched his shoulder in a playful manner.  
"Are you complaining?" she demanded with a giggle.  
"No Ma’am, never."


	10. Drabble: Roleplay (Link x Zelda)

Drabble: Roleplay (Link x Zelda)

* * *

 

"You wear it better than I do," Link mused, reclining in Zelda’s large, Royal bed. Across the room, she adjusted his hat on her head and bit her lip, posing in front of the mirror. She  _did_ wear it well - probable because she was wearing  _just_  the tunic and belt. No boots, no chainmail, not even leggings.

He wasn’t sure she was even wearing underwear.

Either way, Zelda was having fun, and if he was honest, he was enjoying the show. She put her hands on her hips, toes pointing out in some defiant, heroic pose, accentuating just how long her bare legs were. And with no chains, the tunic was pulled tight across her hourglass figure, hugging her hips and flattering her bust.

"I  _do_  feel pretty powerful in your clothes,” she hummed thoughtfully, shifting her weight to the other foot and flexing her arm with a grin. Link almost groaned, watching the slope of her bottom peeking out from underneath as she moved.

That confirmed the underwear.

"Having fun?" he asked, voice taking a husky tone as he watched the Princess of Hyrule yank a wooden sword from an adjoining dresser before giving it a few practice swings. She whirled then, the blunt tip facing him while leveling him with a serious look.

"Fun?" she asked, as if offended. "I’m the  _he_ _ro_  - I don’t have time for fun.” Swinging her mock blade in a wide arc, she slowly stalked towards the bed, smirking as she swayed, knowing that he was unable to stop staring. “I have braved the many dangers of the Royal court,” she continued, stepping up onto the matress and digging her toes into the sheets.

"I have crossed the guarded hallways…" She planted her feet either side of his hips, pushing the weapon down beside her as if leaning on it. Underneath her, Link’s eyes couldn’t stop roaming up and down her form.  
"And now I’ve come to claim my prize."

Less than gracefully, Zelda tossed the stick across the room, where it clattered on the stone. Neither noticed - she was too busy kneeling down upon his chest, while Link’s eyes were drawn to the tunic sliding up her legs, revealing her soft lips and the neat patch of golden curls above them.

The Princess grinned with mischief, chewing her bottom lip while running her hand through his hair. She watched his reaction as she relaxed and parted her legs, growing slick as his eyes traced over her pink pussy. Link’s tongue slipped out of his mouth, wetting his lips, and it made her feel that much sexier.

"Is this hero going to ger her reward?" she asked, pulling his hair in tufts while wiggling on his chest. She almost squeaked with delight when his hands came up, rougher and wider than hers, before grabbing her pert ass and pulling her forward. Her yelp melted into a throaty groan as she settled against his face, feeling his lips brush across her folds before he licked across her clit.

"You make a better treat than a hero," he teased, looking up between her thighs with a damp chin. Zelda laughed with mirth, settling against him.  
"You always did say I was sweet," she said, fingers stroking through his locks. "Now give me my prize, and I’ll handle your sword for you…"


	11. Drabble: Older (Link x Nabooru)

Drabble: Older (Link x Nabooru)

_There was a distinct lack of older, desert thief on my Tumblr. So..._

* * *

 

Link sagged against the stone alter, dust flying up as his knees went weak. For all the strength he had built up, he was left feeling utterly powerless from Nabooru’s skilled ministrations. He had thought seven years trapped under Twinrova’s bondage would have snuffed out those attractive fires in her personality, or taken a toll on her body. But it did neither. It made her more daring, more bold.

She was an older woman – it was clear to look at her. She was as full and mature as she was lithe, with that red hair cascading downwards. Even now as an adult, Link still felt so young compared to her. She was this bold, attractive, fiery woman, so much more experienced than he was. Maybe that’s why it was so easy for her to make his mind spin, or fill his senses with overwhelming feedback – because she was very clear about her wants and needs when she lay a hand against his chest and kissed him.

Goddesses, Link couldn’t tell up from down. Even the massive statue of the Colossus behind him didn’t matter – not when her thin, spicy lips were moving against his, her tongue pushing into his mouth to taste him. And her wandering fingers were-

“Ah!” He breathed in surprise as her hand encircled him. He hadn’t even noticed that she had made such short work of his belt and leggings.  
“I should have known you would become such a handsome man,” she mused, leaning over to flick her tongue against his ear. Link was filled with her scent – sand and wax, and the desert atmosphere. He kissed her neck without thinking, leaving her humming with delight as he tasted her salty, caramel skin.

“Do I make you nervous?” she whispered, her hand already pulling the skin of his arousal up and down. That wasn’t fair – she had already ensnared his mind so easily without stroking him. She asked again, her worn thumb brushing over the sensitive tip and he shuddered before nodding.

Nabooru grinned, her features looking proud and satisfied as her eyes slid down his body.  
“Good,” she said, playing with him all the while as she admired his form. ‘ _So handsome indeed,_ ’ she thought, playing down the front of his tunic before she reached his arousal, hard and delicate, and so very pale compared to the tanned skin of her hand.

“You shouldn’t be scared of me – we’re friends, remember?” Link wasn’t paying attention – he was too wrapped up in watching her touch and stroke his length, playing with him like he were a toy. He thought he  _should_  be scared of her. Not because she was a Gerudo, or even because she had him exposed like this in the middle of the Spirit Temple. Because she was an older woman – full, firm, gorgeous, unapologetic and demanding. She knew so many more of the secrets of life that he had only begun to scratch the surface of.

“And I could teach you so many wonderful things, you know,” she whispered, her words sensual and full of hidden meanings. And then she kneeled down, her eyes never leaving his as she grinned up at him. Surely she wasn’t going to-

“What do you say? Let’s be  _very_  good friend.”  
Link’s gasping groans echoed in the spacious room as Nabooru took him into her mouth and sucked. 


	12. Drabble: Offering (Link x Great Fairy)

Drabble: Offering (Link x Great Fairy)

_I was asked how it would be possible to write Link and the Great Fairy without cheating and shrinking her down to his size. I answered a question with a drabble._

* * *

Link wondered if perhaps this was abuse, but he didn’t really care either way. He was too far lost in his own lust to think about it. Not even knowing that anyone could enter the fountain and spy on them cooled him down.

Probably because of the giant, naked fairy he was leaning against, watching him pleasure himself. That could have something to do with it.

"You’re quite impressive," she cooed down at him, legs splayed out in her basin of purified water. Sitting naked before her, water up to his hips, Link leaned back against her bare leg, stroking himself. "For someone of  _your_  size,” she added with a giggle, before brushing his damp hair back with her finger tip. She had all the affection one would show their favourite doll.

Link blushed, more out of embarrassment than the situation itself. And that was saying something - leaning back against her thigh, her bare, wet sex was almost within arm’s reach. The fairy seemed to laugh at his awkwardness when she parted her other leg and exposed herself. Clearly shame was not one of her traits.

If that wasn’t enough, it was in scale with the rest of her. Link couldn’t help but notice her lips begun to flush pink and puff out, or the musky scent of her arousal choking his senses. He looked away for a time, unable to keep staring at her without risking orgasm. He turned his attention to the water, where he made steady ripples with his hand as he mechanically stroked his erection.

"Slow down," she said, and a painted nail, almost the length of his sword, tilted his head up. "I don’t want my show to be over soon." 

Link followed her back up, watching her massage and palm a full, heavy breast, fingers tugging on her nipple, while the hand that brought him back to her slid down between her thighs. Goddess, were those lips so damned wet before?

He shook his head. His mind was too hazy and he didn’t care anymore. Maybe it was all a dream.

That would explain it. The Great Fairy of Hyrule, claiming that her assistance could only be earned by satisfying her curiosity.   
 _"Lay with me_ ,” she had said. “ _I want to experience the Hero for myself.”_

Yes, surely a dream. The magical Great Fairy, a Great Deviant. How else could he explain what he was seeing, as he watched her slide a finger as long as his arm inside her pussy. A bed of muscle behind him tensed as her leg straightened, and he was sure the pleased hum she made could be heard by anyone walking by outside.

"This is fun," she giggled, and the finger began to pump in and out, filling his senses with her arousal. "I may have have to choose this as my offerings more often…" The digit slid back out again, glistening wet, before she held it front of his flushed face. He hesitated for half a second, before closing his eyes and licking the wide pad of her finger. Above him, she giggled as if being tickled.

"Good boy," she mused, smiling playfully before she dipped her hand between her thighs and framed her full, long lips. "Come on, now. It’s time for you to finish."

If he were capable of sane thoughts and speech, he’d have demanded to know  _how_. How was he expected to sleep with her if the folds of her sex were as long as his legs, or how she was expected to enjoy any of it if she couldn’t feel anything. But he wasn’t capable of any reaction, really. He was too heady from her arousal, too inflamed from the embarrassment of being her private little show.

So, on wobbly, wet legs, Link moved to the front of her hips, while she smiled down at him and offered herself. The heat alone coming from her felt like a dry wind in summertime.

"I want your seed," she said, and with the same finger she had used to tease herself, she gave him a push from behind and he landed against her vagina. She was hot and wet, with her hardened clit butting against his chest. Link couldn’t think anymore - everything from the waist down was comfortable, and his teased prick was buried in so much soft, silky flesh.

The last of his hesitations gone, he held onto her as he ground against her core with his body, chest pressing against her jewel as his length slid up and down within her. Whether from his body stimulating her or her own satisfaction, the giant Fairy began to moan to herself, head tilted back and smiling contently.

"That’s it," she sighed. "Give me my offering." 

And he did. Unable to keep himself moving against such a hot, wet core, Link finally pressed his hips against her folds and relaxed. His hardened length twitched before spurting his seed, thick and wet. He wasn’t sure how she was meant to enjoy it, or if she could even feel it, but he couldn’t bring himself to worry about it.

He had never felt so exhausted, and his entire front was heady and wet. And there was that finger behind him again, affectionately rubbing his hair while the Great Fairy smiled down at him.

"You’ve satisfied my curiosity," she said, but he couldn’t blush more than he was already. "I’ll be sure lend you my aid when next we meet." She moved, bringing her long, giantess legs up to fold in front of her, before giggling and vanishing from the fountain.

Link sunk to his knees. Wet, confused, and thoroughly worn out, he didn’t bother to rinse himself off properly before gathering his discarded clothes and tugging them back on. He just wanted to get back to a familiar cot, where he could sleep and tell himself again that it was all just some erotic dream.


	13. Bombchu's and other risks (Link x Bombchu Girl)

_Something short and sexy for my poor followers who have been starving for LoZ while I'm enjoying branching out into old fandoms. The Hero of Time and the Bombchu Bowling Alley Gal. Plot? What plot!_

_Bombchu's and other risks_

_Link x Bombchu Girl_

* * *

She liked danger, simple as that. Not that she was the sort to take up a bow and sign up to join the Gerudo's any time soon. She wasn't  _silly_  - why sign up for sand and discipline when she had her beloved Bombchu Bowling? Her business had all the gimmicks - bright signs, happy noises, even some decent prizes. Everything needed to lure the punters in.

And every time a fresh bombchu took off, it's fuse winding down, a little thrill began to build in her stomach. That tight, happy little coil that snapped when the clockwork rodent hit it's target and exploded. And all the while, as her customer lined up another shot, she'd squirm on her little stool and bite her finger, and try not to show just how much she  _loved_  those little detonations.

And then the Princess ran away, and Castle Town fell. She was lucky to get out, really - she had a terrible habit of falling asleep when there was no one to play her game. It was by the grace of the Golden Goddesses that she woke up to the sounds of chaos and fled, just before her entire shop went up in smoke.

One little light had found itself inside her bombchu stockpile. The block was flattened in seconds.

Later, when she could drink water without shaking, she'd admit that it was both the most frightening  _and_  the sexiest thing she had ever seen.

And then, normalcy happened. Horrible, terrible normalcy. Kakariko was too quiet for a town so close to the occupied castle, and the most dangerous things around were Anju's cuckoos. The dumb birds were more of a hazard to  _her_  anyway - who bred things they were allergic to??

She thought about all of this - all of the same slow, boring days that her life had become since she lost her precious shop. All of her exciting, beloved  _danger_  being taken cruelly away from her.

It was all the convincing she needed as she lured the now-familiar Hero behind her house, lifting her skirt and exposing her wet, shaven core. Sunlight glanced off the polished steel of his sword, sending a familiar thrill down her backbone when she thought of how many battles it had seen.

"What can I say?" she asked, licking her lips enticingly and spreading herself. The sounds of people milling about the town, just the other side of her fence, made her breasts hard and stiff. "I like danger."

She never  _knew_  danger, she soon learned. Not when trained muscles easily lifted her up, hooking under her legs and bending her knees, leaving her dangling off the ground. Her shoulders thumped against the wall of her house, a feeling of being trapped both suddenly alarming and  _delicious_.

A long-forgotten feeling shot up her core as something brushed her lips, hard and hot, making her hands push his hat back to pull at golden hair. She couldn't remember the last time she was touched, and never as exciting as this. And then the Hero pushed, and her  _world_  detonated. Her bare bum, so cute and perky (and she knew it) pressed against the wood of her house as he filled her up. It had felt like years since she had been with someone, and this muscle, this  _cock_ , was too hard. Too thick. Too  _eager_  for her all at once.

She was groaning wantonly before she could stop herself, loud and obscene enough for anyone wandering nearby to hear. But her vision was still streaked, her legs dangling numbly across strong arms as she was pinned against her house. She was alight, her own fuse burning as she felt him rock against her slick cunt.

"Oh  _Goddess_ ," she hummed, her lips suddenly so dry while her hair fell into her eyes. "Who  _are you_?"

Worn lips brushed against her long ear, sending delightful shivers down her spine to her toes. 

"Link."

His voice was breathless, scratchy, as if it were broken or rarely used. But he held her close as he thrust, and she swore that nothing about him was broken. Not when he rocked her so deep and evenly against her house in the middle of the day. Not when he sucked her neck enough to make her groan, moving harder as she got louder.

"Link, Link, Link..." She babbled his name like a mantra. The back of her head was growing sore from bumping wood, her ass feeling numb. But every deep stroke and thrust made her more alive than she had in  _years_ , and Kakariko's sun and wind caressing her bare legs only made her wetter.

Her cunt was filled, ground against, fucked hard and deep and raw until she shook and tightened around him.

Link groaned loudly, loud enough for the neighbors to surely hear. To bring them to their windows and catch him burying his face into her neck while he fucked her against her house...

It was too much. Too hard and hot and public and  _dangerous_ , and she cried out as her orgasm rocked through her. Aching muscles tightened, her teeth clamping onto her bottom lip as she came apart on his heavy prick.

She felt as if a bombchu exploded inside her. Everything was so hot and tingling, twitching with her climax and the sensation of him splashing hot come inside. She didn't know how long it had been since her feet left the ground.

She didn't even know if her legs would hold her when he let her down.

"You know something?"

She gazed at him, glassy eyes taking in his flushed face and handsome features. He licked dry lips, looked far too appealing to her, even when they were both so spent.

"I like danger, too," he breathed.

Her heart skipped a beat.


	14. Territory (Link x Aveil)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What started as a tiny scene with a minor character became my biggest chapter yet. Dark themes including thoughts of violence, theft, frustration and rough, redheaded sex on top of a Princess' bed await.

_**Territory** _

* * *

 

‘ _Seventeen seconds_ ,’ she thought to herself. That’s all it would take to spring from her seat, reach the guard behind her, and draw her scimitar across the ghoulishly pale skin of his throat.

It would have been so easy, Aveil mused. For several arduous minutes now she had sat perched on a wooden chair, while opposite her sat Princess Zelda in a seat that probably cost more than the Spirit Temple’s treasure was worth. It was an intimidation tactic, she knew, and one that she herself had used on occasion. Set yourself in a seat higher than your opponent and allow yourself to look down at them. Any negotiations would be guaranteed to be at least amusing.

Or at least they should have been. Aveil could have fallen asleep as Zelda watched with a blank expression, all while the “Royal Advisor” sat and hammered on. His voice seemed to conjure images of sand tumbling down stairs – slow and dull but constant, like  _everything_  in this kingdom. And all while the same armed guard let his eyes linger across her sun kissed skin, traveling up and down her abdomen until she could feel her skin itching. Aveil once again counted the steps that would carry her from her seat towards the threshold. Imagined the seconds it would take to run her blade across that pale, Hylian throat. Hot, wet splashes as he fell to the ground, where she would sit back on her stool as he bled out.

Let them address her as she was – Gerudo and proud, wearing the blood of those who stood before her.  _Then_  let them speak of this supposed “integration” between their cultures.

“We have never truly been disconnected, you know,” Sir Boring rumbled on, and Aveil was annoyed to notice that Zelda hadn’t so much as twitched. “After all, we are blessed so often by Gerudo visitors to Castle Town.”

“We are thieves,” she interrupted, crossing her arms. “We take what we want, and we’re not picky. Wine, food, money… even men.”

The precious Princess Zelda seemed to squint at that. A crack in her royal armour that gave the Gerudo no small amount of satisfaction. Modesty was a weakness that Hylian’s afforded, and the desert thieves often exploited. Aveil had long lost count of just how many curious people had wound up shivering in the Fortress cells, too distracted by the flowing silk attire of the Gerudo to recognise the danger they were in.

At least  _most_  of them, she mused, clicking her tongue and casting a look around the sparse room.

“Speaking of men,” she hummed, golden eyes flashing behind desert make up. “I remember making a  _formal_  request for all this talk of peace.” Aveil drummed her painted nails against the oaken table, thoroughly enjoying the way the Princess bristled at how quickly she had mentioned  _him_  since her talk of thievery.

“You’ll find that the room is secure with the Palace guard,” the advisor hummed, gesturing towards the same guard who had spent so long staring at her. The excuse did little for her patience.

“I secure  _myself_ ,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “And a few of your Palace guard can preach it.”

“This has nothing to do with him,” Zelda said firmly, reacting for the first time since calling the Gerudo leader before her. The Princess’ impeccable guard had slipped, and she clasped her hands tightly, her knuckles turning white even against her pale skin. “We’re here to discuss an open relationship between Hyrule and the Gerudo Valley.”

“So you say.” Aveil’s patience had almost run its course. “And the  _only_  one of your little kingdom that we Gerudo even recognise is him. And I made it clear I wanted him here for these little meetings.”

“Link has nothing to do with politics-“

“And I made  _one_  demand.”

Aveil stood sharply, leaving the lecherous guard to jump by the door before tightening his grip on his polearm. But she had no interest in causing a stir in front of Hyrule’s damned golden Princess – that would be a political hissy fit, and she wasn’t about to give up her standing just yet. She was Gerudo, and they settled insults and matters in different ways.

“I’m told I have a room? You can send  _my_  advisor there when you manage to find where you’ve put him.”

Without another word, nor giving time to rebuke, she turned and breezed past the flustered guard. But not without relieving him of his rupee wallet, first.

* * *

Her room was more than she expected it to be, truth be told. Hylian’s afforded their guests more comfort than her sisters did. The preferred “visitor quarters” in the Fortress was a dusty chamber, carved inside the rock walls with a single window high above for ventilation. Aveil had often thought it naïve to allow balconies and window boxes outside a dwelling. They were open invitations to thieves after all. She didn’t bother to dwell on it as she swung her legs over the stone railing of her room’s balcony and climbed the stones to the next floor.

Soon enough, her already dismal opinion of Hyrule had sunk even lower. Everywhere she cast her golden gaze she saw the wealth they wasted in tapestries and vases, while the apparent guard was laughable. Gerudo took pride in their security and their movements. But the few stray soldiers than seemed to haunt the hallways were almost insulting.

‘ _This is what they spare for their relics?_ ’ she mused, melding into the shadows like a wraith of crimson silk. She watched a lone guard, judging as he leaned heavily against his polearm, fatigue ebbing through his movements. Disgust settled in the pit of her stomach as she slipped past, unseen and unheard.  With all she had seen since being “summoned,” Hyrule Castle had virtually offered itself to anyone bothering to call themselves thieves.

Not that she needed much self-justification, Aveil thought as she delicately picked the lock to Zelda’s private bedchamber. Much like the castle interior, it was overly large, annoyingly flamboyant, and worthless.

‘ _Is there nothing of worth here?_ ’

“You really shouldn’t be doing that.”

Her fingers froze, her tools halfway along the teeth of the lock as she allowed herself to look back over her shoulder.

“Took your time, Newcomer,” she regarded coolly, turning back to her handiwork at the lock. She hated to stop halfway into most of her tasks, and being the figurehead of the Gerudo tribe meant keeping a firm, calm presence. Diligently breaking the lock on the Royal Princess’ door while the Hero of the Kingdom watched was par for the course.

“Your guards said you were being the perfect guest,” he hummed, kneeling down beside the wooden door and looking on with a growing frown. “Said their desert visitor hadn’t made a sound.”

“I do so love alibis like that,” Aveil hummed, withdrawing a metal rake from her long ponytail and applying it to the lock.

“I’d say breaking into Zelda’s room is treason, Aveil.”

She flicked her eyes towards him as he leaned against the heavy door, shoulders hunched as if he had been forced into the role of an uncomfortable accomplice. It had been months now since she had cornered him in the fortress, having been forced to admit her admiration of his skills. Their meeting had been brief, but the Hylian had left enough of an impression on her at the time. It was rare for a man to press so deep into the Gerudo fortress, and rarer still to welcome him into the tribe as a member. Aveil let her eyes linger on him, gazing, sizing him up until she slowly grinned.

“Only for a Hylian,” she whispered easily. She allowed her gaze to drop, slowly dragging upwards as if studying his presence. The once red tunic was now a deep shade of forest green, the hair longer and messier, but Link hadn’t changed. Not really. “So, now I wonder.”

Her hands twisted, fingers teasing the bronzed lock as it clicked audibly in the hallway. Her long, tanned fingers slid around the handle and opened the door, pushing it open a crack before she tucked her tools into her sash.

“Are you here to arrest me, Hylian? Or are you my new Gerudo, here to help me carry the treasure I liberate?”

She didn’t wait for an answer, so sure he was prepared to stop her. She had no intention of being stopped, not by her lowliest subordinate, nor by the Kingdom’s heralded hero. With a quick push, Aveil opened the door enough to slip through, hearing the muffled curse behind her as she left the darkened hall.

Thoughts of ransacking the Princess’ room, of stealing fine rubies and so many heavy rupees, fled her mind as she took in the overwhelming opulence of the room. Zelda’s private bedchambers looked to be drawn from the very myths of the Golden Goddesses. A museum to wealth and strength. A tribute to the highest social class that she so often looked down her nose at, sneering at their blue blood and lack of practicality.

There was no treasure piled in the corner, nor fine gems to lift from furnished boxes. No rupees to hide in her silken pockets. Just  _luxuries_. Thrones and seats and a golden chamber pot, everything decorated and upholstered in rich velvets. No one in the history of the Gerudo, no matter how well they lead, had ever known such refinement. Aveil felt an equal mixture of resentment and pity boil in the pit of her stomach.

Hylian’s were soft. They could afford to be.

She heard Link enter behind her, his footsteps stilling over the threshold and his breath inhaling sharply. No doubt he was a stranger to this room as well, which surprised her. She would have guessed for how possessively Zelda regarded him, she would have surely stolen her prized hero away here to seduce him. To bed him and twist him and make him loyal and hers, as any other Queen would do.

She felt his hand come around her bicep and she pulled away, but it didn’t return. His token effort to make her turn around had failed, and he was still too taken aback by the spacious chambers of Hyrule’s Princess. To see his eyes dart from a wall sized painting to a crystal carafe settled in her mind.

This warrior was more Gerudo than palace guard, and she preferred it that way.

“Well,” she sighed, crossing her arms. “If I can’t steal the furniture, I may as well steal a drink.” The crystal decanter looked more and more appealing, she decided, softly twinkling in the candle light, a honey brown liquid inside calling to be sipped. Aveil watched with amusement as her new companion stood awkwardly in the Royal chambers, as if he were unsure if he was allowed to even imagine such wealth. She didn’t doubt that he was already picturing his punishment for standing there uninvited. She poured a healthy glass of strong-smelling alcohol into an equally elegant goblet, lifting it to her dusted lips and swallowing as she strolled towards him.

It was good. Of course it was good. The rich only drank the best, and she didn’t doubt that whatever the vintage was, Zelda had spared no expense. Honey flavours danced on her tongue and burned her throat before it settled pleasantly inside her. If she couldn’t steal the glass, then Aveil was prepared to enjoy the liquor just fine.

“A toast to Hyrule,” she sang, crossing the room and idly noticing that even the ground seemed plush beneath her shoes. Whatever. The sand and stone of the valley had made her tough, she thought, tipping more of her goblet back, feeling less burning than before. It really was good.

“Drink with me, Newcomer,” she declared, refilling her seized goblet and pushing it into Link’s chest. Like a spell breaking, he blinked and focused on her, as if just noticing the Gerudo with intent to steal inside Zelda’s private bed chambers. The strong scent of alcohol wafted upwards from the fine crystal, and he backed away.

“Come on,” he said, holding his hand out for her to take. “We go now, and we’ll forget this.”

Aveil barked with laughter, hard enough to make him cringe and look back at the heavy door, as if expecting a torrent of guards to suddenly pour through. Her amusement was quickly giving way to boredom, but the comfortable burning in her belly was relaxing.

“Look at you,” she mused, raising the glass once more as she stepped past him. Her mouth tasted of honey and spice, and she idly wondered how long had it been since she had enjoyed anything besides desert wine. Too long, clearly, she thought. “You should be helping me drink this.”

“You should be back in your room.”

Goddess, stubborn men would forever annoy her, no matter who they were.

“Would you prefer to be here with Zelda?” she mocked, sweeping her hand around the opulence around them. “How long have you  _dreamed_  of being summoned here? To be allowed to sample wealth and taste your golden Princess? I had no idea how  _small_  you dreamed.”

Aveil swallowed the remainder of her goblet, smirking behind the crystal as she watched his hands ball into fists, his look turning bitter and resentful. Oh, this  _was_  amusing.

“It’s sad, really.” She dropped her crystal onto the nearest chair, letting it bounce against upholstered springs like no other furniture outside of the castle. “You’re the fucking  _hero_  of this whole land. How long until they reward you?”

Aveil turned away from Link, her once-proud Newcomer. Strong alcohol left a soothing fire in her belly. For the first time since arriving, she was beginning to enjoy herself. The Gerudo gazed about the elegant room, once more lamenting the lack of easy-to-pilfer rupees, before noticing just how large and comfortable Zelda’s bed looked. She didn’t waste another second, stepping up onto the feather down cover and bouncing, admiring the softness beneath her shoes.

“Mind getting down from there?” Link’s frown creased his face, his patience having evaporated by now. Aveil found it utterly precious, grinning down at him as he stood beside the lavish bedspread and pouted. ‘ _How Hylian_ ,’ she thought.

“Come and get me, Hero,” she taunted, taking another step back towards the carved headboard. She considered counting just how many ridiculous pillows sat there, but her playful mind was too warm and relaxed for such a boring and taxing job.

“You know that this annoys me, too?” she asked, turning back around to regard the annoyed Link before lifting her leg behind her and tugging her shoe off, repeating the move with the other. She dropped onto the bedding with little grace, relaxing against the myriad of pillows and spreading her toes against the blankets.

“Being dragged to the castle?”

“Of course. But mostly seeing what they’ve done to  _you_.” Aveil crossed one leg over the other, stretching back against the comfortable bedding and inwardly cursing Zelda anew for enjoying such luxury every night.

“This entire Kingdom needed someone. They needed you, because they were too soft and too weak.” She grabbed a throw pillow and effortlessly hurled it towards him, watching it sail through the air before he batted it out of the way with a swish of his hand. She smirked, nodding with satisfaction, as though his look of annoyance was approved.

“And so you did. You rose up and you saved. Them. All. You even saved them from us.” Aveil reached up to the jewelled tie in her hair, giving it a quick tug before pulling it away from her cascading, crimson locks. She relaxed back against Zelda’s bed, shifting her hips and allowing herself to get comfortable.

“And we made you one of us,” she hummed. “You were strong, you were brave. So we made you a Gerudo.” She cracked her eyelid, carefully gazing at him across the length of the plush bed.

“And what did they do to say thank you? I think they domesticated you.”

Link’s glare became darker. He marched stiffly around the side of the bedding, as if afraid to touch Zelda’s royal blankets, before finally standing beside the relaxing Gerudo at the head. She gazed up at him, hair spilling loosely around her shoulders while her tanned skin contrasted with the white bedding.

“You think I’d be better off in the desert with your tribe?” His tone was icy and she grinned, stretching her leg out and pointing her toes.

“I think instead of being a Royal pet, you would have your pride, so yes.”

“I don’t know how to be a thief.”

“That’s obvious,” she sniffed. “If you were half the Gerudo I thought you were, you’d have drank with me and then fucked me silly on Zelda’s bed.”

He froze, his muscles tensing as he absorbed what she said. It was just a shock, he told himself. Just surprise at hearing her talk so crassly, so bluntly to him. But Aveil’s smirk was knowing, and the way she spoke of his life was uncomfortably close to the truth of the matter.

He really had been relegated to mediocrity. Kept close by Zelda’s side, but never  _too_  close. And never  _allowed_  to leave without guard, even.

And the Gerudo arched back off of the collection of pillows, her pale tongue darting out to wet her lips. She could see the struggle she caused and found it  _delicious_. Her Newcomer, so big and bored and frustrated – it was enough to send a playful tingle down her spine.

He really would make such a fine Gerudo, she mused. He was swift and clever, and Aveil never cared for such toying methods that Royal’s always used. Why waste so much potential enjoyment?

“It’s not too late, you know,” she said, brushing her hand through her untied hair and gazing up at him with hooded eyes. “I can give you a nice, proper welcome to the tribe…”

Link descended on her, frustration and annoyance boiling over. He needed to do something, _anything_  to shut her up. The more she teased and taunted the more he felt his ire growing. And the more her offer sounded so very tempting. So he kissed her, roughly, deeply, tasting spicy alcohol on her lips and tongue and feeling her react beneath him. He expected her to push him away, to make some token effort at backing down. To prove that she really was just a spiteful desert thief.

Aveil responded rougher again, pushing her tongue inside his mouth to taste him before dragging her teeth along his lower lip. She sucked him, hard enough to make him groan in such a guttural way that it went straight to her core. This,  _this_ , she mused, was much better. This was strong and fun and satisfying in a way that she had sorely missed for a long time. This was everything that she was expecting since her arrival. To finally find and welcome her Newcomer back into the tribe, all while robbing the Royal family blind.

Drinking Zelda’s booze and then fucking her favourite swordsman on her pillows was infinitely better, she decided, pulling her mouth away from his long enough to tug her top straight up and over her head. Before she flicked the offending material away she felt him pull her, tongue swathing across her auburn nipple before sucking. Aveil felt the same honey from the liquor, this time warmer and growing inside her ribcage. Tanned hands yanked and pulled at messy blonde hair, coaxing him into giving her neglected breast more attention.

Yes, he would make a fine Gerudo, she reaffirmed as he stroked her. Those heavy, rough hands palmed her, teased her, sent shivers down her spine as Link made up for lonely, frustrated nights. He was clumsy and inexperienced, but she could teach him. The tribe honed their skills to perfection. He would be no different. But for now, Aveil shuddered as his teeth nibbled her breast, her breath shaking inside her lungs. Her foot slid over his thigh, her supple legs feeling muscles that made her wet.

“There’s plenty of time for finer details,” she hissed, lifting her hips and pushing her silken pants down her thighs. Her bum touched the cool lace pillows, reminding her that she was perched in the middle of the  _very_  extravagant bed of Princess Zelda. Aveil’s clit throbbed with anticipation and she toyed with the idea of telling him, before instead yanking his hand down between her slippery thighs.

“Are you going to fuck me already?” she sighed, feeling his fingertips gently explore her tender core. It was more than she remembered, having someone touch her so intimately. She was so  _wet_ , so hot and so eager to feel more. Link just shook his head, his fingers never straying from her pussy.

“No,” he breathed, and her eyes flew open, staring at him in confusion and hurt and anger. But he was already moving, his fingers teasing her before moving down to her legs, grabbing fistfuls of silk. He pulled them down, off her legs and over her feet, throwing the thin pants behind him and leaving her exposed before him, tanned and lean and achingly aroused. Aveil watched as he hooked his thumbs into the slacks of his tunic, lowering them until his cock bobbed upwards. He was so hard and full, his own dew drop glistening on the flared head.

“I’m going to fuck you in Zelda’s bed,” he whispered, stealing the breath from her body. Aveil’s eyes slid shut and she arched, curling her toes as heat flushed through her. She never _dreamed_  she could be this aroused before. And then she felt his wide, firm hands on her ankles, grabbing and pulling her forward. Her ass scooted along the pillows and blankets, until she felt him against her. She gazed down, watching the thick muscle hover there, before Link pushed forward and he touched her lips. The Gerudo’s eyes fluttered, her legs quaking as he pushed inside her eager pussy until his hips met her own.

She lay there, feeling a hand stroke across her bronzed belly. She felt so hot and full, like her body was slowly starting to come alight, from her hips and steadily moving down to her feet and up to her breasts. Aveil’s reached up with a trembling hand, feeling past his chest until she found his throat and then his cheek. Painted nails stroked him. Her golden eyes flashed up at him, heavy and gleaming in the candle light.

“There’s my proud Gerudo,” she sighed. Her heel found purchase behind him, digging into his back while her hand dropped to her stiff nipples.

“Now hurry up and fuck me,” she said, she  _demanded_. “Fuck me on this big bed. Make me moan and swear and come undone on your cock.”

Link’s hands settled against her knees, his teeth flashing as he looked down at her. Naked, tanned skin already glowed under the candles, while her long red hair began to grow wilder as her head lifted up from the pillows and then fell back down. He held her still, leaning back and watching her bite her lip as he eased out of her core. He saw himself, red and sensitive and impossibly wet from her body. And then he thrust, and Aveil arched up against him. She purred sinfully, and Link wasn’t sure if she frustrated him or excited him. All he knew was her breasts flushed, her smile widened and he wanted to see more of her like this.

Her body rocked against him, her toes curling as she felt her wetness slip down her thighs and stain the pillow she lay against. She had thought about this before – she had no problem with admitting that. Aveil had often fantasied with pushing this hero down and riding his arousal, taking him deep inside her body. To have him and rule over him as a proud leader of her tribe. Her more wicked thoughts involved swallowing him, or having him somewhere public and taboo, where Zelda may witness her Hero choosing a dark and lean Gerudo thief over her. But  _never_ , in her wildest little thoughts, did she expect this – to feel his hips bump hers and his cock gliding in and out of her while they gradually dripped and stained the Princess’s royal bed.

Aveil shut her eyes, her fingers digging into his shoulders as she tried to hold back on her rapidly approaching orgasm. She didn’t want to come apart just yet, shaking and clenching him hard enough to maybe bring him over the edge with her.

“Slow down,” she breathed. “We’ve got lots of bed to go, Newcomer.”

* * *

“I’m told you were a model guest,” Zelda spoke the next day, steepling her fingers and gazing across the table. Aveil shrugged, more interested in her painted nails and noticing where chips had begun to appear in the gloss. She would need to redo them when she returned to Gerudo valley.

“Hard to do anything with a pair of guards outside my room,” she said simply. She had already told them that she was a thief, and had no reason to hide her intentions now or ever. She was simply… admitting to being a prisoner in her room.

“Indeed,” Zelda responded in a strained voice. She didn’t betray any emotion or suspicion. She just stared ahead at Aveil, who continued to look bored. If the Gerudo was expecting an interrogation over missing alcohol or a bed that  _seemed_  used, she didn’t betray a thing.

“I know you want to… what was it?” Aveil snapped her fingers as though mentally searching for something out of reach. “Open up relations, right?”

Both the Princess and her advisor nodded.

“Well, you don’t seem to realise that the Gerudo  _aren’t_  a kingdom, we’re a democracy. And I would be out of line if I didn’t put this before my sisters, first.”

The advisor seemed to have some form of respect dawn on his aged face, nodding gently. But Zelda’s brow furrowed.

“The Gerudo have always considered the male of a generation as their King,” she said. “And without that heir and Nabooru, they are lead by  _you_.”

Aveil smiled sweetly, flashing some of her teeth.

“But you’re asking us to  _give up_  our traditions and become annexed by Hyrule,” she replied, clasping her hands together. Zelda’s frown deepened. Aveil’s smile grew sweeter still. “You can see why something this big would require a… discussion in our tribe.”

“Yes,” the Princess mumbled, aware that she was revealing too much of her personal opinion to her opponent, and a Gerudo at that. But she knew that Aveil was stubborn, and she highly suspected the other woman in having something to do with her personal quarters becoming so subtly rearranged. Zelda pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting back a headache. The sooner Aveil was back in the Gerudo Valley, the sooner she would breathe easier, at least.

“Well then, can we expect an answer soon?” she asked, making one final attempt to wrap this matter up sooner than later. Taking the hint that they were finally ending this mess (for now), Aveil stood and stretched, unashamedly showing her tonned and tanned belly towards the Princess.

“It’s hard to say,” she mused. “For now, our traditions stand, and we’re welcoming a new member back to the fold soon. We’ll be preparing that, first.”

“I… was under the impression that you had to be born a Gerudo to be considered one.”

Aveil didn’t hide her grin, eyes flashing with mirth as she pushed her stiff wooden chair back under the table.

“Sometimes we get a special case, and we’d be a  _fool_  to let them go, Princess.”


	15. Twilight (Link x Midna)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fluffy smut and heart wrenching angst. It could only be MidLink.

When Link was just fourteen years old, he felt like he had a pretty good grasp of the world around him. He was pretty sure that he knew everything he had to know by now. The trick, he decided, was to remember that life was a rather simple thing. Growing up in Ordon village taught him that everything was just a matter of process. And he considered himself a pretty quick learner, even with all these confusing new hormones coursing through him.

During the day he helped Fado in herding the goats. Of an afternoon, he spent time with Ilia and the horses. And of an evening, he would learn lessons from Bo, or fencing with Rusl. And he rather enjoyed his quiet life of hard work and peace. So, being the intelligent young man that he was, Link assumed that would do him for the rest of his days. He imagined he would grow into a strong farmer, like Fado, trading his wares in the market of Castle town. He guessed that he would one day marry Ilia, who he’d known for all his life. And then they’d probably settle down in a house with some children.

And even  _that_  seemed simple to him. He wasn’t too sure what the huge appeal was of mounting Ilia’s backside, but the goats certainly had a time of it during mating season. And maybe his bubbling hormones were to blame for his growing interest.

Regardless, he was pretty confident in what life held for him.

After all, that was how the world worked.

* * *

When Link was sixteen years old, he was sure he had a fairly good grasp of the world around him. He was now quite sure he knew everything he had to by now - he was, after all, a quick learner. The trick, he knew, was to remember that life was a simple thing.

One day, after helping to catch an escaping goat  _again_ , he was shown a pictograph of Hyrule’s Princess, the fair maiden Zelda. And, since life was so simple, he declared to Rusl that he wanted to learn more advanced fencing techniques. Why be a modest farmer when being a knight was so much better? He considered himself brave, especially for a sixteen year old.

He dreamed of the glory of appealing in full regalia to a cheering crowd. Of being big and strong, saving countless innocents from the monsters that roamed their world. Of how proud Zelda would be, taking him in and rewarding him. Making him a “Sir.” Granting him her affection. And, thanks to the sheer torrent of hormones inside him, he often thought of being in her bedchamber for a “real reward.”

After all, that was how the world worked. Right?

* * *

When Link was eighteen years old, he ducked his head and fought down an embarrassed blush, sitting naked amongst the twisted, silken sheets of the Twilight Princess.

He had crossed the width and breadth of the world and, being a fast learner, realised that life was anything but simple. He didn’t have a grasp on many things at all. And he understood  _nothing_  about the things that really mattered.

“I’m not sure what to do,” he swallowed, his cheeks growing hot as he heard Midna laugh quietly. An elegant, bioluminescent hand caressed him, one cradling his face while the other tickled his stomach.

“It’s easy,” Midna cooed, her voice a pleasant waver in the still night. She guided his head up, up,  _up_  to meet her sight, smiling with affection before her eyes crinkled, mischief on her face. “I’ll show you…”

He stiffened as her hand gasped him, her thumb expertly teasing the slippery head of his hardness. He had thought of this,  _dreamed_  of this even, trying to picture everything he had read and heard. He was, he thought, a fast learner – and Link guessed that warmth and friction and even wetness could only do so much. But Midna rubbed him, massaged him, slowly pulling his foreskin down before pressing her thumb against the swollen tip. He gasped, his muscles growing tense, and he realised just how little he truly knew.

“Do you like that?” she whispered, and he was struck by how  _impish_  she suddenly looked. Amazon tall and bare, sitting cross legged before him, lording so much power over him – she always seemed to have the power, but he found it so attractive about her. And the smirk on her lips and the glisten of her eyes sent him back to the days when she hid in his shadow, sniping at him whenever his guard was down.

“Yes.” Goddess, he didn’t know his tongue could become so thick and dry.

“Would you like more?”

He only nodded. He didn’t trust himself to talk. He didn’t trust himself not to do anything, watching as she gracefully untucked her legs and exposed herself. And Link’s cheeks grew hotter again as he saw the moist, soft, puffy lips of her sex, because even if he was a fast learner, nothing could have prepared him for this. His mind raced – she looked so small, a neat opening, bare of hair. How was he supposed to fit in there? What if he hurt her? What if he wasn’t  _good_?

He loved her – he really did. And he had long thought and dreamed and fantasized of the evening when he could make love to her. And now that he was so close he was _terrified_ , because she was this vision of grace and beauty. And he didn’t know a  _fucking thing_.

Link shuddered as her long legs coiled around him – ebony and ivory, one slipping around his waist while the other bent and pressed against his side. He never felt so trapped and safe at the same time, which only intensified as Midna brought her hips against his own. She gazed down at him, a look of warm patience on her features, and he wondered if those golden eyes could see right through him. See how confused and scared he suddenly was. She must have, he thought, feeling her hand rubbing gently across his bare back.

“Relax,” she whispered, which made him do anything  _but_. She held him like he wanted to hold her – safe and secure and confident, only he couldn’t. Because he was so much smaller than her, and so unsure of what to do. He could only try not to shiver as her long fingers slid over the soft skin of his dick, and then failing as she angled him against her body and he arched his back from the contact.

He had read that her core would be hot. It would be slick and sometimes feel very tight, and that both organs were sensitive. But nothing in his imagination could prepare him for the way her body kissed his length, watching her puffy lips spreading across his thickness while she rubbed against him.

“My turn to take care of you, Link,” she cooed, and he could only stare as she raised herself up. How he thought he  _may_  be alright, feeling her stroking along the underside of his cock, tingly but not terribly so. And his heart  _thumped_  inside his ribcage as he stared at her, pulling him towards her, that small, wet opening crowning him.  _It wouldn’t fit it couldn’t fit it-_

Midna watched him throw his head back and  _groan_  into the night as she took him, settling her hips against his. He was built differently than Twili – shorter but thicker, doing things to her that she wasn’t used to. She wasn’t about to complain. There was something to relish in this hot, thick cock, nestled inside her pussy, smooth but beating like it had a pulse. But it was watching Link’s eyes slam shut, his jaw dropping open and _growling_  in her bedroom that made her smile.

Link’s lungs felt like they were made of lead. His body was alight. He never knew anything could be so hot, so wet, so vividly soft and safe and  _wonderful_  like being nestled inside her body. He was sure the image of those lips parting, stretching and sliding down his length would be with him until he died. He hoped they would. He hoped he forgot none of this – how her glowing skin danced under the candlelight, shone with sweat and the small sways of her body. Those golden eyes gleaming down at him, or the way her legs shifted and tightened around him.

He just sat there, underneath her hips, her lap, watching her smile and giggle and sigh as she moved herself. Every little hop she made left him shaking and feeling silly. Silly because he knew he  _must_  have looked it, smaller and paler against her two-toned body, eyes widening and cheeks red while she took him inside her core. Link felt those same teasing hands stroking along his back, soothing his muscles. Her breath drifted across his long ear while she whispered to him.

“That’s it,” she sighed. “You’re doing fine.” “You feel so  _good_  inside.” “I want all of you, Link.”

He was already so close and he squeezed his eyes shut. Not yet, he pleaded with himself. It was too soon to finish. It felt like she had only just lowered herself onto him a moment before, and at the same time it could have been hours. Goddess above…

“Come for me,” she whispered, her lips dangerously close to his ear. “I can feel you’re close… now do it.”

She bit his ear, sucking, and the world exploded in specks of light. He grabbed what he could – her – his arms coming around her lithe body in a hug that could have been crushing, but she only hummed and sighed with contentment.

So long ago she had touched his hard length and he shivered, her thumb expertly rolling the skin. He slid inside her body and his spine went ramrod straight, frozen in what could only be the most amazing thing he had ever felt. But Link felt like an absolute  _mess_  as he came inside her. He felt himself swell, stiffen. And then his seed splashed into her, and every nerve and fibre felt like fireworks had gone off through his body. His strength left him, the air rushing out of him. All he could do was cling to Midna, his body shaking, his hips shifting, while the Twilight princess hummed and took all of him.

For one single, blessed moment, everything was  _perfect_.

Awareness came slowly. He felt those fingers, long and dexterous, running through his sweaty hair. He heard a gentle rumbling inside her chest, where his ear pressed against the soft contour of her breast.

“Rest up,” she told him. “We’ve got all night ahead of us.”

 _All night_. The words shook him to his core, bringing him out of his reverie. His exhaustion left him, replaced with anguish.

One night was all they had together – perhaps all they ever would. It was enough to make him want to cry. He buried his face against her ebony breast, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to bring his racing pulse back under control.

Something warm, wet and salty slipped down his cheek, before he felt her thumb brush it away. She said something, her voice warm and affectionate, but he didn’t hear it.

At eighteen, Link had a good grasp of the world around him. Life was never a simple procedure. Nothing was ever easy, and the things that truly mattered took time and hard work. And sometimes not even they were enough.

That was the way the world worked, after all.


	16. Drabble: Staining the Bedsheets (Link x Zelda)

Zelda fell back onto her sheets with a thump, catching only half of her breath before he was upon her again. Hot, rough fingers slid behind her legs, tickling her inflamed skin and leaving her wiggling against the comforter. Link reached her panties, already wrinkled and tugged at and oh so  _moist_  from her excitement. She bit her lip and arched, her bum hovering above the bedding.

A peal of excited giggles filled the chamber as he  _yanked_  them downwards. Ordinarily he was so calm, composed, kissing her stomach with reverence while slowly relieving her of her clothes. Tonight, Link couldn’t get her panties off quick enough, dragging them down the slopes of her legs and catching one of her silk stockings on the way. Zelda’s laughter turned to a pleased hum as she watched him, pulling the lot down and off, flicking the stocking away and throwing her underpants over his shoulder.

“I could just  _devour_  you,” he whispered coarsely, watching the Princess wriggling enticingly. Zelda’s knees came up slowly, one leg pale and bare, the other clad in the reflective sheen of her stockings. The Royal Crest never looked so attractive, embroidered in red and gold threads on her comforter, framed perfectly by her long legs and her blushing cunt. She grinned that feline grin of hers, the soft flesh of her lip ducking behind a row of teeth. Lavender eyes sparkling in the candlelight.

“Take them off,” she ordered,  _commanded_ , the full weight of her Royal powers behind her. It was the same voice he had used countless times before. The tone of authority and respect. The voice of Hylia incarnate, weighing the affairs of her kingdom. Link  _throbbed_ , pushing his hewn trousers and briefs down in one impatient push. He watched her eyes follow their decent, her brow rising with interest. Those pearly teeth biting down harder into the soft pillow of her lip.

“I see I’m not the only one who is wet.” Zelda’s smoky tone left him twitching again, a dew drop of arousal beading against the tip of his prick as if she had summoned it. Of  _course_  he was wet. She made him hard just by looking at him with those cool, shadowy eyes. A kiss was all it took to make him grow thick and hard. But this –  _this_ was torture.

Zelda smiled. Demurely, charmingly, her fingers coming up to tease her hardened nipple. Link tried not to think about how they tasted like her mango soap, sweet and succulent as she urged him to suck harder.

The wet, sticky dew dripped from his cock, staining the pale fabric of the comforter. She  _purred_ , releasing her breast and moving lower. Past her abdomen. Past the flaxen curls of her mons. Delicately parting the slick, puffy lips of her labia, exposing her core.

“Taste me later,” she said, lifting her bare leg and sliding it across his, her heel coming to rest in the concave of his hips. “Take me  _now_.”

His hand wrapped around her ankle and she giggled again, his enthusiasm always exciting her, leaving her breathless while her body tensed and uncoiled. His heavy, broad frame pinned her to the covers, familiar and safe and still so adventurous. He rubbed against her once before thrusting inside her, hard and deep, spilling curses from their dry lips.

There wasn’t time for foreplay and hushed utterances of affection. Only her cunt, hot and slick and velvety soft all around him. Her thighs came up around him, her bare leg wrapping tight around him until Link swore her name. And Zelda shuddered, finally,  _blissfully_  full once again. How long had it been since his weight held her against her covers while that muscular cock fucked her? A week? A few? Din, it could have been a few days. All that mattered was he was here, now, making her feel good again.

“More,” she breathed, pulling his shoulders down until he flattened her breasts with his chest. His hips bumped her own, her flesh spreading around his girth.

“Is that a command?” he whispered, licking the tip of her long ear.

“Whatever it takes,” she promised, her breath leaving her body as he bucked harder against her. She felt him, his tightened sac striking her rear, her arousal dripping down and staining the bedsheets. “Just fuck me.”

Rough hands swept her body, from her neck across her breast and down to her slippery thigh. He held her, lifted her, bringing her closer for purchase. And then Link’s hips crashed against her, his prick gliding in and out of her aching core. Zelda’s breathing became a symphony of gasps and groans, and he was going to make her sing for him.


End file.
